


Ghost in the Machine

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Plot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 07:04:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7674796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The PETRAS Act is temporarily lifted, enough for Overwatch to continue operation to push back Omnic Crises globally under specific watch. Talon has been quiet for a long time - most of their operations coming to a halt. Missions have been scarce. Enough time for Jesse McCree to reacquaint himself with his fellow operatives after years of being apart and the too fast-paced mission during Talon's greater era - Specifically by flirting with a certain pair of dragons.<br/>Unfortunately, the possibility of a new God Program emerging will send Overwatch into Overdrive. </p><p>Slow Burn McMada (Genji/McCree/Hanzo) with eventual, underlying plot. No Beta, Fluff at first, Plot starts Chapter 4.</p><p>Will add tags as they come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally started out as a plotless McGenji fic about flowers. Eventual McHanzo, eventual McMada.  
> You'll see exactly where I plan to take this fic and let me tell you, enjoy the intro fluff while it lasts.  
> There will soon be pain.
> 
> I'll be adding a chapter daily until I catch up to where I'm writing currently. Chapter 4 will begin the main plot from the description.

Genji sat with his left leg outreached and right leg folded in, both arms out to hold the ball of his foot as he rested his head on his leg. He kept still, feeling the slight though welcoming sting of his prosthetic body. He stretched beside the wall-window, a few stories high. It was quite a sight to take in, and he enjoyed watching birds fly past as he stretched when indoors. He stayed in that position, even as McCree came into the room, hat and serape missing and seemingly freshly groomed. He pulled a can from the fridge, separated by a counter in an open kitchen to the rest of the pristine room. He leaned against the counter, and Genji could feel his staring.

McCree did this sometimes, for as long as they’ve known each other. The cowboy even tried it – twice, in fact. One with his leather and belt that posed no stretch at all, and another in sweatpants and a loose shirt – which showed he had little flexibility in him more than the previous.

Genji sat up slowly, inhaling. He switched his legs in and moved to reach for his other foot, still aware McCree was in the vicinity – though the man didn’t stop staring.

Genji, though nearly folded in half in his stretch, turn his head to look at McCree, away from the window.

“Is there something you needed?” he asked in a dry tone.

The cowboy gave him a grin and folded his arms with a light shrug, drink still in hand.

“Just enjoyin’ the view, is all.” He lingered for a moment longer before pushing himself from the wall he leaned against and left Genji to his stretch.

Genji’s fingers twitched – his chest felt warm.

* * *

 

Zenyatta and Genji sat beside each other beneath a cherry tree – both with they’re legs crossed and arms relaxed across them. They had been there only for a few minutes, though the light breeze fluttered flower petals from the tree, lightly covering their mechanical bodies.

Mercy and McCree typically had a similar schedule, and the cowboy would almost always walk her to the building, swapping stories, making light small talk, or on a rare occasion Mercy would ask him about his  prosthetic arm – if it was working fast enough for him, if it needed upgrading, and if  his arm was in any pain.

“Sometimes gets a bit tired after trick shootin’ right at the cut off, but ain’t somethin’ I’d worry too much about, doc.”

Mercy nodded, “Of course. If you need anything, you can always ask me or Miss Vaswani, depending on your needs. Let me know if the tension gets any worse.”

McCree spotted Zenyatta and Genji beneath the tree, and decided it’d be worth to give them a quick bother.

“Appreciate the concern,” he said with a charming smile and a tilt of his hat. Mercy gave a glance to Genji and Zenyatta as well and held back a sigh – she hoped McCree wouldn’t cause too much of a scene. He meant well but he was always a little too brazen. She gave him a nod back with a sweet smile and headed toward the building by herself. Out of armor, she was no less angelic, but her lack of wings made her seem somewhat smaller.

McCree approached the two by the tree, and Zenyatta was first to greet him.

“Care to join us?” His filtered voice offered, sincere and kind as he gestured to a spot opposite of Genji.

Genji was stiff, perhaps to his master’s notice, but not to McCree’s.

“Dunno what you’re doing, by why the hell not.”

Glancing to how the other two sat he emulated as best he could. Back straight, hat in his lap, relaxed a bit, and tried to keep still. For a few minutes, he seemed a little restless, but he settled his micromovements after some time – much to Genji’s relief.

He hadn’t realized how long he sat until he slowly opened his eyes, feeling far more relaxed than he had in a while. He made a slight groan as Zenyatta and Genji were already standing – Genji bowing to his master. It was dusk and a few distant fireflies flickered.

“Thank you, Master,” he heard Genji say, not catching the beginning.

Zenyatta tilted his head to peer over Genji, and Genji turned – both looking to McCree.

“Well, dang, it’s sundown already..?” He laughed to himself and stood, a little wobbly. Genji automatically took his arm, helping him balance. Zenyatta’s filtered voice chuckled.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself today, McCree.”

The cowboy grinned, “Never thought I’d enjoy doin’ nothin’ that much.”

He looked down and brushed a few petals off himself, smiling to himself about how many decorated the three of them as they fluttered down. It was romantic, in a sense, the gentle breeze, the twilight in-between of day and night, and the hazy, though not unpleasant, feeling from coming out of a good meditative state.

“I will be deployed on another mission tomorrow. I am not sure when we will return, exactly, but it should be no more than a week if we do well.”

“I will await your return, Master, and continue my meditation until then.”

With a nod, Zenyatta lifted both his legs, hovering above the ground as he crossed them. He parted, leaving Genji and McCree by themselves.

“Y’know, I could get behind this whole meditation thing,” he said, both trying to break the silence and simply saying so because he wanted.

“I’m surprised you feel that way.”

“And why’s that, darlin’?”

“I…” Genji took a moment to process McCree called him _darlin’_ though excused that he did so with practically everyone. He did, but it has been a long enough time since Genji had heard it that it jarred him for a moment. McCree noticed, he know he noticed, but politely said nothing. Nor gave Genji that lop-sided grin.  

“…Did not think you could keep still for more than a few moments at a time.”

McCree snorted, “Yeah, supposed I surprised myself, there, too. Almost didn’t, lemme tell you. Feels worth it in the end, though. Feel great.”

“That is good. It helps clear the mind and rest the body.”

“You can say that again,” McCree mumbled, rocking on the balls of his feet with a strange light-footedness.

“Thank you for joining us,” Genji said, just before he turned to leave.

McCree slipped his hand over Genji’s back, nearly startling him with the boldness of the action.

“Why don’t I escort you, kitten.”

“You don’t have to,” Genji replied, hands held slightly up, though McCree didn’t take the hint. Or ignored it. 

“Least I could do, ‘specially since I bailed on Miss Mercy earlier.”

Genji lowered his hands, feeling there wasn’t any real way to deter his determination, though tried to walk somewhat ahead, McCree’s hand just barely hovering by him.

When inside, however, Genji quickly turned to McCree.

“I can find my room on my own,” he said, careful not to be too hasty.

“Alrightie then. Have a good night. Be delighted to see you again in the morning.”

Genji nodded and quickly made his to his room, McCree’s only a few doors down, but the man lingered in the living room.  

In the morning..? Genji only stretched in the morning, before doing anything else. He flustered, thinking back to McCree _enjoying the view,_ as he said. He called up a roster in his visor, finger pad lightly tapping the comm at his temple. Zenyatta was going to be gone for at least two days, but preferably no more than five. McCree and he had nothing the entirety of tomorrow. He made a whiny noise as he closed the roster and found his way to his room.

He didn’t dislike the McCree, but didn’t know what to do around him, either. Not anymore. They’ve worked too hard, focusing on Talon and Omnics and Wars to relearn friendship. He hoped they could still continue to be the friends they once were in Blackwatch.

* * *

 

There were a total of two cherry trees along the walkway to the headquarters. Genji was unsure why they were planted there in particular, but did not complain. Their blooming flowers were withering, reaching the end of their life cycle, but scattered beautifully with the rest of the short cut grass and flowers that lined the walkway. The grass was still wet from being watered not long ago, though Genji didn’t mind as he tread up the ever-so-slight hill to one of the cherry trees, the same one he sat beneath with Zenyatta and McCree. He tilted his head, examining the tree, arms crossed with one hand touching the area where a mouth would be. He bent his knees and uncrossed his arms after a moment and climbed up the tree with a short leap – there was no place to really sit in its thin branches, but that wasn’t his intention. Before he fell back to the ground, he called a shuriken from his arm and cut a small branch still blooming with flowers. His feet met the ground with only a light thud.

“Pleasure to be of help,” McCree said to Mercy as they were heading down the same walkway.

“Satya is currently working on Jack’s eyepiece. I’ll let you know when we can schedule an upgrade for your arm.”

“Thank you, kindly.” Mercy spotted Genji by the tree and McCree follower her gaze in his direction, watching the cyborg contemplate quietly.

He had left Mercy’s side as he had the day before to curiously watch Genji from behind, unabashedly watching the way his prosthetic body moved the way a flesh-and-blood one would – the tension and ease of back and shoulder muscles as he climbed then landed gracefully. McCree noticed that sort of thing right away, even before Genji’s new white-and-sealed armor upgrade. Taught, sinewy muscle and reflexes that could kill. Always amazed him, felt too awkward to say anything. Being as many years as it had, it’d be far more awkward to bring it up now. So instead, he settled for flirtatious words and lingering glances. He brought a cigarillo to his lips and struck a match on his chaps. He loved doing that – made him feel pretty badass, even for a split second.

Genji looked at the branch in hand, examining it proudly – there was a slight curve to it. He looked up then to his side, where he saw McCree. The cowboy waved to him, smoke thinning around his face. Genji waved back and, though actively avoided going back down to the walkway, staying the grass.

McCree, however, stayed outside, waiting for Genji to go inside as he found himself also in the grass among the bushes of flowers. He looked down, and cracked a smile – they sure were pretty, blues and violets, some of them dark pink. He plucked a few, trying to ignore the dull throbbing in his prosthetic arm. Satisfied with his vibrant bouquet, he headed inside, too. He didn’t spot Genji, but instead found Hanzo, Lúcio, and Hana talking, Lúcio and Hana behind the counter, Hanzo in front of it. Mostly Lúcio and Hana talking – the elder dragon always looked like he was brooding about something or another, even in the company of the other two. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Hanzo smile, sharp and toothy, no less dangerous, but he was smiling at one of Hana’s stories. Lúcio looked up first and beamed.

“Oh, hey Jesse!”

Hana waved to him as well, Hanzo offering a nod, smile gone, almost running off with McCree’s own damn heart. _Shimadas_ , he cursed to himself.

“Hey, y’all seen Genji? Been meaning to give him something’.”

Hanzo eyed the flowers in his arms for a while.

“He should be getting his visor upgraded by Satya and Winston,” Hana said. She gave him a cheeky grin. “Sooo… You wanna give him flowers?”

McCree shifted his weight, now under the playful scrutiny of the kid.

“Yes ma’am, just wanted to give him somethin’ to make him feel pretty.”

“Aw, that’s _cute_ ,” Lúcio teased, his voice dropping as he pursed his lips.

“Hey, don’t be givin’ me any lip.”

Hanzo didn’t seem convinced.

“And you decided on flowers? He isn’t a delicate man. He’s flirted plenty in his youth. Perhaps you should aim to actually impress him.” The words were as cutting as his gaze, but still held a playful tone. McCree was mostly happy he finally felt comfortable enough to hold that tone with him at all.

“Now you’re just makin’ my heart sink. He get in trouble a lot as a kid? Remember he told me you’d always get mad at him for bringing people home, instead of going to a hotel.”

“Pfah, he was womanizer who didn’t understand the values of our clan. Yes, he was scolded many times. It never deterred him.”

“Ooh, he was cute when he was young? More than you, I bet!” Hana stuck her tongue and grabbed into a bag of gummy candy Lúcio was holding, the medic snickering. McCree swore he saw Hanzo puff up just a bit.

“I had more important things to do! I was soon-to-be head of the clan.”

“So, what, Genji went out and partied and you got stuck with old man duty? No wonder you’re so high strung!” Lúcio was still trying not laugh and failing terribly.

Hanzo somehow bared with the teasing and it truly amazed McCree. _Never gave me that kind of patience_ , he thought in a pout.

“Genji wasted away money, partied every other day, and left our father fretted and weary. It was my responsibility to pick up where Genji had completely dropped his _own_ responsibilities.”

“Ah, don’t be like that!” Hana exclaimed.

“Lighten up a little! Shit, I’ve gotta get going soon, promised to meet Lena on the track! Here, you can have all this,” Lúcio pushed himself from the counter and handed Hana the whole bag of gummies, her face brightening. Lúcio patted Hanzo’s shoulder on his way out.

McCree saluted Lúcio, stepping out of his way.

“You ain’t jealous of your brother, right?”

Hanzo sighed, wanting the subject to be left alone already.

“Cuz you ain’t got nothin’ to be jealous of, that’s for damn sure.” McCree laughed and patted Hanzo’s back, heading down the hall toward his room. Hana stopping midway through stuffing her face with gummies.

“Why does everyone insist on touching me?” Was Hanzo’s only remark.

As McCree left, Hana continued to eat but stared at Hanzo’s face. He frowned.

“What is it.”

“You really jealous of Genji?”

Hanzo tisked.

“No. Nothing like that. I simply… Miss the memory.”

Hana pursed her lip. “Wish I had a brother. Or a sister. Maybe we could co-op some awesome games.”

Hanzo laughed through his nose.

“I doubt that. Genji enjoyed video games as much as you do now. Despite being brothers, I had little interest.”

“ _Had_?” Hana mimicked.

“You talk about them like stories. It’s interesting to listen.”

“They _are_ stories!” Hana exclaimed excitedly. “Interactive stories that you’re a part of! RPGs have so much stuff packed into the, there’s also choose your own adventure! I play competitive, though, one vee one, sometimes more. I play to win! But they’re still _so_ much fun, you’d love some of their stories.”

“Perhaps you would be inclined to tell me.”

Hana beamed and crossed her arms across the counter, ready to talk about the first story that came to mind. She wondered if Hanzo would enjoy Let’s Plays more than actual playing.

Genji had a quick briefing with Angela, Satya, and Winston. Mostly on how new upgrades to his body were working. Winston volunteered to add more to his visor. Removing his helmet, he left it with them before heading back into the upper levels of the building. His face from the bridge of his nose and down was still covered. He doesn’t often walk without his visor, feeling more protected in a way, though Winston had tested a few things on Morrison’s visor that he wanted to add to Genji’s. Infrared and other small things, he recalled.

He hoped to take a shortcut to his room, crossing into one of the extra living spaces, though he did not expect to find his brother.

“Brother,” he greeted, though Hanzo only gave him a short nod back. Hanzo and Hana were across from one another at the counter. Hanzo turned back to her and she waved to Genji for a moment before they began talking again. She liked telling Hanzo about her fights, and how she recorded them. She was always excited and energetic when she talked about it, the recording and reposting her videos for her fans in Korea. She encouraged Hanzo to do so, too, but he found little appeal in the entertainment factor that she enjoyed. He did, however, think it would be good for reference and practice. D.Va called him an old man and Genji laughed as he walked by.

“Don’t encourage her,” his brother scolded, referring to her pet name for him.

“Hey, McCree was looking for you earlier,” Hana said with a bright smile and a finger-gun.

 “McCree?”

“Yeah! He asked for you just a little bit ago. He said he wanted to make you feel _pretty_ ,” she teased, head in her palm as she kicked her legs – just a little too short to sit properly in the stool behind the counter.

Hanzo nodded in agreement with her.

“ _Ano_ , thank you,” Genji replied quickly with a short bow and hand to his chest before he wandered further. He sighed. McCree’s room was a few rooms after his. It wasn’t too far, but he hoped he was there to get this over with. It made him tense, for some reason. Embarrassment, mostly – he never knew how to handle McCree’s naturally flirtatious nature. When they were younger, he countered it with his own. After some years with Zenyatta, he unlearned certain habits. And thus unlearned his only defense against the cowboy’s silver-threaded words.

With a light knock at his door, McCree looked up from his work bench and set down Peacemaker, a few shells scattered across the desk. Opening the door he was pleasantly surprised to see Genji. More so when he saw him without most of his helmet.

“Well ain’t you’re eyes the prettiest things I’ve seen all day. Somethin’ I can do for you, gorgeous?”

Genji looked visibly surprised, promptly forgetting he was not wearing his visor. He then looked away. Though his mouth and nose were still covered in a second layer, his eyes and scars were unhidden by his missing faceplate.

“I heard you were looking for me,” he said shortly.

“That I was. Why don’t you come in? Got somethin’ for you.”

Genji followed McCree inside and the door shut behind him. The room was standard like everyone else’s but with a slight _McCree_ flare – old movie posters, a couple wanted posters of McCree himself, a few screws, small hydraulic cylinders, and shell casings scattered on a table… McCree held something up to him and he registered it as… Flowers. McCree was beaming.

“ _Ano_ …” He wasn’t sure what to say at first, gingerly taking them from McCree.

“Figured you liked flowers, so I picked some pretty ones for you.”

A bit embarrassed, Genji mumbled, “ _So ka_ …” They were vibrant bundle of irises. He’d seen them around, but hadn’t gotten around to picking them himself yet.

“Thank you.”

“No problemo. Got any favorites?”

“Favorites? A favorite flower, you mean?”

“Yep.”

“I…” Genji tilted his head to think for a moment. McCree smiled softly to himself at how Genji’s eyes shifted off to the side to think. It was a charming.

“No… I don’t think so.”

“That’s a darn shame. Would love to impress you by goin’ to get some,” he laughed. “Feels weird, y’know? Wanted to do somethin’ nice since we haven’t been able to catch up on our own. Saw you cut a pretty little branch from that tree ‘n thought _well, hey, this is a mighty fine idea_. Got you some gosh darn gorgeous flowers.”

“Flowers when arranged together can be equally beautiful,” Genji protested shortly, in lieu of McCree’s rambling.

“You like flower arranging?” McCree was surprised, though pleasantly. “Learn something new ‘bout all your old comrades on a near daily, at this point,” he snorted.

“ _Ikebana_ is a form of art.”

“No need to get defensive, darlin’. Mighty kind of you to give little flowers your time of day, makin’ ‘em look nice and all.”

Genji held the flowers close, not sure what to say really.

McCree reached out absently and touched a little off from the corner of Genji’s eye, right at the border of skin and metal.

Genji’s filtered voice was a little on edge, “Thank you for the flowers. I’ll be going now.”

He turned and walked a bit too quickly for McCree to apologize. The cowboy scratched a patch of beard with his thumb, mulling over what he might have done wrong.

Genji sighed as he came back into his room, irises in hand. He looked to his own work bench, neatly arranged with both sharpening tools as well as flowers and clipping tools.

He laid the bundle of irises down and picked a small white vase, one of a bowl shape. Filling it with water and sticking the needle base inside, he sat down to clip the ends of the irises, taking three and cutting their stems, trimming dead petals next. He stuck them into the needles. The three tapered in length, short, medium, and long. He chose his own handpicked cherry tree branch and trimmed the dead petals, then stuck it in the midst of the irises toward the left with a natural upward tilt. Lastly, he found a long, straight leaf, trimmed the decay from the ends, and stuck it with the others, though allowed it to strike towards the right, in total opposition of the flowers.

A shelf above his work bench held several more of his arrangements, one having draping willow branches fall over the edge of the shelf. He sat back, looking at the new arrangement. He picked a new iris from the bundle and twirled it in his fingers before pressing it to his helmet where his nose was. There were some things lost to him, and it still stung that he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the scents of flowers any longer, but he found some comfort in their colors and shapes alone.

His comm buzzed and knocked him from self-depreciation. His visor was upgraded already and the others were awaiting testing.

He stretched his arms before getting back up, passing by Hanzo and Hana once more on his way down.

“Mind if we do a test run?” Satya asked, handing him his helmet’s pieces.

“ _Arigatou_ … Ah, sure. That would be fine. In here, yes?”

Satya nodded and walked towards Mercy and Winston at the desk.

“Satya placed turrets around the area. They’re powdered down so they won’t hurt you too badly. But if you can find them all and deactivate them, not _destroy_ them,” Winston emphasized, “then we’ll call it good. Just to test how reliable the new infrared is, anyway. Torbjorn’s bots are still getting treated so this’ll have to do until then.”

Genji bowed and clicked the visor part back on first, then the bottom, the pieces whirring into place as the green glow flickered online.

He stepped forward until he passed the yellow and black striped tape, indicating the safety zone and work zone. At the sound of a buzzer, he pressed two fingers to his temple, activating his visor’s new vision. Crosshairs locked onto targets immensely fast. He saw Symmetra’s turrets with ease, even through crates and walls. He immediately ran toward one. When he neared it, he was surprised he didn’t need to do anything when the visor loaded instructions in his peripheral vision as to how to dismantle the turret and avoid its beam.

He dismantled one quickly enough and found nine more hidden in the small training grounds, climbing up crates and walls to catch a few of them. The few seconds he had hanging in the air proved to be just enough to cut power to Symmetra’s turrets with speed and accuracy, removing a plate and cutting a simple section of wires. He did get shocked, though it was a gentle sting more than the furious bolt that charged the turrets, normally.

After the exercise he thanked the three.

“There isn’t too much going on, is there?” asked Winston.

Genji shook his head.

“No, it’s all filtered easily enough and still provides me with good insight. It’s faster, too…” he added absently. “Thank you for the upgrade. I will put it to good use.”

Symmetra chimed in, “We know you will. When the others return, we can let you do a test run on Torbjorn’s turrets as well as the training bots, when they are repaired. A team exercise will be issued then. We’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, Miss Vasw–” An explosion rattled the building for a moment, Genji’s shuriken ready.

“I’ll, uh, go check on them.” Winston rushed off toward the other end of the lab, another exit.

“Jamison was… Testing out new explosives. With Mako.” Satya explained slowly, staring off in Winston’s direction. “Please do not worry yourself.”

Genji nodded and relaxed, retracting his shuriken.

On his way back, he clicked his helmet, the pressure releasing and he removed his bottom piece before carefully removing the top piece from his temples.

The information it provided was cleaner and quicker – something he greatly appreciated. He leaned against the counter, empty of Hanzo and Hana, turning it in his hands. It hid his face, though a second carbon-fiber skeleton layer took the place of his jaw and mouth entirely, too damaged to even eat or drink. Scars riddled his face, and the remains of his human body. He looked at the segmented joints of his fingers – no longer flesh up to his wrists.

He heard the gentle rasp of leather against leather and a quiet boot against tile come neared. Genji looked up, clasping his helmet’s faceplate pieces in his hands, waiting for McCree to come through.

“Hey there,” The cowboy said when he saw the cyborg before him. “Hope I didn’t scare you off before.”

“It is fine. I needed to check if my visor was ready.” A poor excuse, but true. Though, Jesse wasn’t a man to easily fall for such things. Thankfully, he was a kind enough man to not question it.

“They give you an upgrade?”

“Yes.”

McCree came closer and offered out his hand. Genji carefully lent him the visor part. He looked at the inside, but was disappointed he couldn’t really put it on himself. It was fit for Genji’s cybernetic body only, not like Jack’s or Symmetra’s visors that could fit any general human face.

McCree said, “Don’t look any different.”

“Internal upgrades. Software.”

“Ah, figured as much. Here, let me.”

He turned it around and clicked it into place on Genji’s helmet, thumb brushing where his temple was. He stared a bit too long at Genji’s scarred face.

With a slight annoyed spark in Genji’s eye, he said, “You do not need to stare. I know how I look.” It was colder than he meant, but while the young dragon felt at ease with himself, he did not enjoy the scrutinizing feeling of others around him.

McCree gave him a soft smile. “Didn’t mean to. But if you know how you look, then you know I can’t help but look at somethin’ as pretty as you are.”

Genji shoved the bottom half of his mask with the rest of his helmet, the visor glowing green once more. McCree pulled his hand away with a laugh.

“Don’t say those kinds of things. It’s not funny. Even after all this time.”

“Look now, I’m not makin’ fun a you. ‘Less you prefer to be called _handsome_ , instead. You sure are some mix between. Somethin’ real precious, lemme tell you. ”

Genji’s fingers twitched as he kept his head turned away from the man, a huff made a static sound through his voice modulator.

“You know, your brother went on and told me ‘bout how you used to sweep up girls off their feet. I know you told me a little bit about it, but it’s funny to hear it from, y’know? Yet here you are, getting a little bashful just ‘cuz I said you like nice.”

“My brother told you about that?” He asked, simultaneously suspicious and surprised.

McCree laughed, sounding a bit nervous. “Well, not exactly how _I_ said it …”

“How _did_ he say it, then?”

McCree straightened himself, arms crossed in a mocking gesture – mimicking Hanzo’s voice he began, “My brother was a womanizer who didn’t know nothin’ about the values of our clan, somethin’ or other. Went on to say how you spent all day out an’ about, flirtin’ and spending money like it was nothin’.”

When McCree’s accent slipped through Genji laughed warmly, a little more lax.

“It is in the past,” he said with a lighter voice. He wondered if it was something that still bothered Hanzo, but he supposed it was just part of whatever tale Hanzo was telling McCree.

“When was this?” Genji asked with a cross of his arms and a tilt of his head.

“Earlier today when I asked about you. Said you flirted with girls all the time and it made your old man more than a little ticked off when y’all were younger.”

“When I was younger, yes,” he repeated, a little dazed by how this story occurred. “Why did this come up, exactly?”

“Told him I wanted t’give you some flowers. Make you feel as pretty as you look.”

Genji made a small noise that cracked through his vocoder and McCree have him a hearty laugh.

“See? That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout right there. So how come you can flirt with pretty girls, but you can’t handle little old me givin’ you a bit of a tease, huh?”

“You’re… Not exactly a _pretty girl_.”

“That makes a difference for you?”

“Yes. No. I…”

Genji made a noise of defeat.

“C’mon, then, if I _were_ a pretty girl, what’d you tell me? If that makes any difference, to you, anyway.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.” McCree’s grin was charming, and shit-eating. Genji had half a mind to push him out of childish avoidance.

Genji said nothing and walked past McCree. McCree frowned and tried to follow after him.

“Blew it again, didn’t I? If I’m makin’ you uncomfortable, you can always just tell me. We’re good friends ‘n all, you can tell me anything, ‘specially when I tick you off, alright?”

Genji turned to him and moved close, nearly chest to chest until McCree backed up against the wall. Genji’s palm flattened against the wall next to McCree’s head, the cowboy’s hands went up in surrender.

“Look, if you’re angry or somethin’ – ”

“Why would I be?” Genji interrupted, a finger under McCree’s bearded chin. His voice was softer, to put up a show. “The air around you is always so casual, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

McCree beamed, letting Genji lift his chin. They still had a height difference and the angle made him look down at Genji with lidded eyes.

“That’s pretty good, I’ll admit.” He didn’t, however, admit that his heart sped a little. Genji didn’t admit that he noticed it in the information provided by his visor’s new upgrade.

“Did you doubt me?” Genji said mellifluously. His fingers brushed through McCree’s beard, close by his ear for a moment before he slipped past him completely, continuing his route down the hall.

He escaped from McCree to go outside and touched his hand to his chest, heart beating wildly – adrenaline? He didn’t want to think about it, so instead he tried to search for a spot to sit and meditate. He at first thought of his usual spot beneath the cherry tree, but the flowers reminded him vaguely of McCree. He sighed in frustrated and found a flat patch of grass in the middle of the wide lawn in front of their headquarters. He tied to relax, breathing calmly, though grew restless. He took nearly half an hour just to keep himself from rushing his breathing exercises before he could even begin to meditate.

After a few more moments, he settled himself, relaxing his neck, shoulders, arms, and let a wave of calm wash over him.

He sat for a couple hours before stretching out his legs and arms. It was about time to head into their training grounds for practice.

The evening was mostly quiet save for a friendly competition between himself and his brother, and a few more distant explosions. Shuriken versus arrow. Of course Hanzo won three out of four times – his arrows were deadly where Genji’s shuriken were meant less to kill with one flurry. Hanzo even let him call three shuriken one strike. Genji joked with him about a sword match, and nearly regretted it. There was a bitter curl of Hanzo’s lip as he grinned – more rictus than a real one.

“Perhaps one day, yes,” he started. “Perhaps after so many years of training, and my lack of, you finally have a chance to beat me.”

Hanzo had a glint in his eye that made Genji’s heart warm – slowly, they were mending. Genji stayed behind as Hanzo retired early. It was late by now, and Genji did not need to rest as long as everyone else. A couple hours each day, if not a few in a week, were enough to sustain and energize him and his cybernetic body. Meditation helped, mostly, allowing his mind and body to rest without truly sleeping.

He did not realize how late it really was, until he finally ran out of shuriken. He went to retrieve them, not minding the time it took to retrieve so many. He could store nearly a hundred in rows within his armed gauntlet. He heard the familiar sound of quiet metal and scraping leather. He caught the glow of a lighter as McCree lit his cigarillo and came into view. For a fraction of a moment, he looked almost solemn. Genji wondered about it for a moment before the look vanished as McCree caught Genji in his peripheral and smiled.

“You’re here real late,” he commented.

“I do not need sleep like the rest of you.”

A quiet grunt as McCree went up to striped tape and loaded his gun.

“But you do, I imagine.”

“Couldn’t get a wink.” McCree’s voice was almost bland as he aimed and fired at a recently repaired training bot. He fired all his rubber rounds and reloaded, chewing his cigarillo more than smoking it.

“Is something wrong?” Genji said after a long pause of watching McCree reload and empty his chamber again.

“Prob’ly.”

Cryptic. Out of character. But Genji was beginning to worry, until he spoke again.

“Just one of those nights, I guess. Got restless, itchin’ to draw, y’know? Came here thinkin’ to get some shots in. Might as well do somethin’ productive. Missions been slow comin’ and all.” He aimed and emptied his chamber again.

Genji hummed and decided to finish retrieving the rest of his shuriken. McCree fired round after round. Genji noticed his aim was starting to get a little off.

He walked towards McCree, behind the safety tape, and reloaded his armored gauntlet. He stood a ways from the cowboy, to give him a good amount of space.

“You seem tired. Would you like me to make you tea? Perhaps it can calm your nerves, if you are restless.”

McCree’s trigger finger itched, but not in the way he explained to Genji. He never really regretted the lives he took, but more or less lives he couldn’t save because he wasn’t quick enough a draw.

“I don’t care much for tea, but if you think it’ll help, well then I’d be obliged to try it, darlin’. ‘Specially if you’re the one to make it for me.” He gave the cyborg a wink before reloading his gun for the sixteenth time.

Genji was silent, and if McCree didn’t notice the way Genji was still, he’d almost think it was because of what he said. But the cyborg did not let the flirting reach him this time. McCree was hiding something, it was painfully obvious – almost as if he didn’t want to hide it but felt he had to. Genji both wanted to make sure he was alright, but also thought it to be none of his business. He fought with the thoughts in his mind for a few more seconds.

“It should be ready in a few minutes. Feel free to join me in the common room when you are ready.”

“You got it, sweetheart.”

Genji boiled water and found a few boxed of tea in a cupboard. He picked out a few, ripping open the small bags to mix them – they did not have individual tea ingredients, so it would do. After the water was at the right temperature, he began steeping the tea leaves when he heard McCree near down the hall. McCree yawned as he came in, covering his mouth with the back of his gloved hand.

“What’s funny is,” he sat at a stool opposite of Genji across the counter. “I’m tired as hell. But somehow I just can’t get myself to stop tossin’ n’ turnin’.”

“Are your thoughts too loud?” Genji asked, handing McCree his cup of tea. The cowboy muttered a _thanks_.

“Think so…” He took a drink and Genji wondered if he should pry.

“…Nightmares?”

“Hmm. Nah. Don’t think so. Not the cold sweat kind. Just worried ‘bout our friends is all. The world. Talon. My arm… Your brother… You…”

McCree’s face sank into a frown as he took another drink. Genji noted on his visor it was 4:28 A.M.

“It is natural. I am sorry so much troubles you. Our friends have returned from far worse. The radio silence is for their safety. They will return.”

McCree gave him a half-smile. Genji continued.

“The world is regaining the peace it once had. It will recover with our new alliances. Our new base. Our new everything. We will rebuild what we can.”

It didn’t elicit much from McCree save for a grunt of lukewarm agreement.

“We are keeping Talon at bay, for now. They have retreated and have been silent for some time.”

McCree made a sound as he drank more tea.

“Your arm… Does it hurt?”

McCree clicked his tongue and set down his cup.

“A bit sore after shooting. Right at the nub. Think it’s just muscle tension, though.”

“When was the last time you removed your arm?”

“Been a while, actually. Hell, damn thing’s waterproof. Makes it easier on me, thankfully.”

Genji nodded thoughtfully.

“Perhaps you should remove it, for now. Or when you rest. Let your skin breathe.”

The slight tightening of McCree’s jaw told Genji he didn’t like that idea.

“I know it must be hard, a reminder, even. But it is a prosthetic not meant to be worn at all times. Not like… My own being. I think it would be better.”

McCree made a disapproving hum before sucking in his lips, tasting remnants of tea.

“You ever gotta do that? Let your skin breathe?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

Genji hoped he wasn’t pushing his boundaries – he felt with McCree that would be a little hard in a general sense, especially the time they’ve known one another, but the thought crept into his mind anyway as he reached out to take McCree’s mechanical hand and wrist, gently touching his own finger pads to the palm. The man took one more sip of tea before setting it on the counter and lifted his mechanical arm, eyeing it for a moment. He took off his glove and clicked the release at the base of his prosthetic, the lights flickering out before it depressurized and released. He twisted it a tad to unclick it before sliding it off a rod connected to his arm. The rod was also removable, though the base a similar bio-mechanical material to Genji’s innermask jaw was surrounded by inflamed red skin. Genji immediately held McCree’s stump by the elbow.

“It is infected. Have you not told Dr. Ziegler about this?”

“Told her it was hurtin’ a tad.”

A _tsk_ and a curse in Japanese.

“McCree, you need to get this looked at.”

“Hell’s the point? Not like I got an arm to lose,” he joked bitterly.

“If you don’t, it could get worse and more of it would go.”

“Take the whole damn thing, then.”

Genji flexed his hold on McCree’s elbow before letting go. He clicked the release behind his mask and removed his bottom faceplate, green glow of his visor going out as it lifted to reveal his eyes, sharp and clear with concern.

“Please speak with her tomorrow,” he pleaded.

McCree grumbled and looked away for a moment.

“Hell should I do ‘bout it ‘til then?”

Genji’s face relaxed. He’d smile if he had a mouth, though what muscles he had left in his face gave the illusion he was.

“Can you remove this?” He pointed to the rod.

McCree nodded and unhooked it it from the base that encased the end of his limb.

Genji removed himself from the counter and took up a dish towel and soaked it in warm water. He gently took McCree’s arm and wrapped it around the area.

“Soothe it for now,” he said, looking at the man’s face.

McCree touched the damp towel then emptied the last of his cup. Genji poured him more without being asked.

“…My brother?” Genji continued.

McCree groaned into his cup. “’S’nothin’. Forget it.”

“McCree,” Genji scolded. “What is it?”

“Pretty sure you know.”

“I have forgiven him.”

“I know that. And it ain’t my business. I don’t hate his guts, and I don’t rightly have nothin’ against him, either. Thing is, I’m not mad at him. I’m worried ‘bout ‘em.”

“Worried?”

“Yeah. That man doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings, I reckon.”

 _Neither do you_ , Genji held back.

“Not sure if it’s a Japanese thing. Maybe it’s a Head of a Clan thing, a Shimada Family thing, or just something up with himself. Whatever it is, he’s keepin’ lots of stuff bottled up in ‘em. Least he’s finally gettin’ round to socializin’, though.”

Genji nodded. “He is… Trying. We spoke earlier. We had a friendly competition. My shuriken over his arrows,” he hummed warmly at the memory from earlier. “He will come around, given time.”

“Glad to hear it. Bein’ honest, really.”

“I feel there is more to it, than that.”

McCree let out air, not quite a laugh.

“Yeah, guess so. Just... He’s keepin’ so much bottle up. It’s gunna eat away at him, you know? Cuz I sure do. Eat him alive. Don’t ever want to see someone else go through that. Not sure if it’s you, himself, the Recall, the Shimada-gumi, or some wicked combination of it all. Feel it’s the latter. I really hope you’re right, that he comes around.”

“You’re so genuine about it.”

“Pfft, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re a sentimental man, McCree, I know this. But there are few people you’d be so… Adamant to analyze. To feel for them. Empathize.”

“I like him. He sure don’t care much for me, though.”

“He cares. Perhaps not enough to call you friend, yet, but you are comrades.”

“Guess so. Funny, sometimes I feel like a damn child ‘round him. Not on purpose, I just wanna see him smile sometimes. I know he’s done it, I’ve seen it. Wish he had it in him to smile more often.”

The cyborg hummed again as McCree drank. He waited until he finished that cup as well, a few moments of silence passed.

“…And lastly. What about me?”

“Hm?”

“Our friends. The world. Talon. Your arm. My brother. Me.”

“Oh. Right.”

McCree clinked the glass to his teeth on accident in a hurried attempt to busy his mouth. He realized he was out of tea, regardless.

“’Nother?” he asked nervously. Genji poured him more and waited patiently for McCree to down that glass as well.

“Y’know, it’s real late, maybe – ” Genji caught his human arm before he could stand up.

“You are not getting away that easy, Jesse McCree.”

The cowboy sighed. “Aw, hell.”

He adjusted himself on his seat, drumming his fingers on the cup. His thumb brushed over his bushy eyebrow as he avoided looking at Genji.

The young dragon was growing irritated – not necessarily from impatience, however. A creeping of insecurity found its way into his chest.

“If it is about my appearance – ”

“I like you, kid,” McCree finally said, albeit a bit strained, hoping to interrupt the ninja before he got too roused. He cleared his throat in a strange attempt to soften the impact of what he said.

“I… What?”

“Said, _I like ya, kid_. _Really_ like you. A lot. Too much. Shit. Shit, damn. It’s real late and I’m not really in a good state of mind, right now, so I’d better go and get some rest an’ all, yeah? Yeah,” he laughed to himself, trying to ramble so Genji wouldn’t have time to speak.

McCree gathered his prosthetic, rod, and glove.

“Thanks for the tea, Genji.”

“ _Ah… Hai…_ ”

As McCree pushed himself off the stool and turned toward the hall, he looked back for a moment.

Genji touched his chest, but his hand dropped back down. He couldn’t feel his heartbeat through the metal plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it sounds a little boring at first. My character development and dialogue skills got way better later on; will definitely be more of the other characters. I hope the rest will be enjoyable!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more Hanzo involved.

Genji was left mostly to his own thoughts, replaying the general, day’s events. Hanzo warming up to him was still fresh in his mind. His smile and the glint of challenge in him sparking once more. It brought an attempted smile to Genji’s face. It rivaled the thought of McCree when they had tea together. McCree had a lot of strange worries on his mind. He hardly ever let the larger things encompass him, _nothin’ you can really do about it ‘cept worry, and I’d rather focus on better things_ , he recalls quite some time ago. Genji is startled he remembers that.

They’ve had fallen comrades, both in Overwatch and those who were stolen into Talon. Nothing they could do except worry. Mourn. Move on. No, but McCree had a terrible habit of collecting small personal tortures. Never wanting to bother anyone, always too afraid, himself, of being burdensome to even his own friends and co-workers, individuals who care about him. Genji wondered how long McCree’s arm had been inflamed. Something beneath the bio-mechanical mesh irritated his arm, and Genji hoped McCree would seriously talk with Angela about it.

McCree was painfully complex – everyone was in their own right, but there were things Genji was still learning about him even after all this time. He supposed when people grow and changed, you learn new things about that person, not the old one. He himself was different and Hanzo had to relearn him, his habits, his personality. He wasn’t _entirely_ changed, he mused to himself. He still spoke with confidence, he still enjoyed games, and he still had a boyish fury beneath him. He was more leveled, in control of it.

After so long, he wondered how long McCree kept this to himself. _I like ya, kid_. Really _like ya. A lot. Too much._  He hadn’t been called _kid_ by McCree in quite some time. It was true, they were not far apart in age, but his short stature and mere two years of difference, McCree called him _kid_. Even when he himself was one, though that was in their early Blackwatch days.

It was a strange slip – perhaps to deter from what he actually said, no? That was new. And Genji felt a fluttering in his chest. How long? They’ve flirted before, but they each flirt with near everyone, and near everyone take it as a joke, especially the two of them. He certainly did feel like a child back in school. Crushes and nervous jittering. The feeling was similar, but he wasn’t too eager nor too bumbling.

He sighed, legs crossed as he sat on the floor on his mat in front of the window, the earliest light of dawn barely peeking out. He rocked his leg, knee hitting the mat in a _tap tap tap_. He wanted to speak with his master. Not of the petty circumstances themselves, but to help sort out what he should do. Alas, he would not be returning with the others for some time, still. He could not simply avoid McCree. They were far too close and far too adult for such a game. Could he… Confide in Hanzo? His brother might laugh at him. Genji wondered if that was so bad – to hear him laugh again. It was rare, now. In a few hours, perhaps.

* * *

 

 “ _Ma, kuso_ …” Genji cursed in Japanese as he dropped a cup, shattering across the floor. Hanzo was trailing inside, D.Va and Lúcio both beside him.

“You okay, man?” Lúcio asked first, though the three of them knew immediately it took quite a lot to break Genji’s concentration, let alone distract him enough to let a cup fall so far as to break without being caught.

“Ah, yes. Sorry, I was in my own mind. I will clean it.”

“ _Bikyeo_ , I got it,” Hana said with a light huff. Genji gave her a chuckle as she took up a dustpan and hand brush to sweep. Lúcio took a towel to clean the mess of tea leaves, and Hanzo heard Genji’s airy laugh with a short _warui_ , watching him as his hand rubbed the back of his neck.

Hanzo’s brow lifted.

“I thought you could not drink.”

“I don’t. It was McCree’s.”

Hana didn’t suppress her surprise. “Really? He’s _up_ this early?”

Genji laughed, “Ah, no, we stayed up talking. He finally went to bed some hours ago.”

“Of course you’d leave it out so long,” Hanzo scolded. “Wasting it for the rest of us.”

“Take it easy, we got you!” Lúcio interrupted, overlooking the ripped open packets of tea Genji left. Hanzo huffed though his eyes softened – Genji’s terrible habit of leaving trash around still lingered. He would pick up after himself, but he’d leave them long enough to irritate Hanzo when they were younger. Lúcio made him cup and offered Hana one as well.

With a nod, Hanzo sat at the counter. Hana refused.

“Ugh, no thanks. That kind’s way too bitter.”

“Just give it some sugar, no problem!”

Hanzo made a hearty laugh that Genji paused before he sat down. While Hanzo did laugh, it was rare he was around to hear it.

“If you need to add sugar to drown the taste of tea, perhaps you should try sweeter tea.”

“Oh-hoh, what’s _your_ problem, old man? I like the stuff, just gotta give it a nice hint of somethin’ else, sometimes.”

Hanzo snorted, taking his cup. Genji was beginning to fill with a warmth in his chest as nostalgia and happiness bloomed.

“What about you?” Lúcio directed the question to Genji.

“ _Nande_?”

“Dunno what that means, but like, back when you could? You ever take sugar in tea?”

Hanzo answered for him – “He took tea with his sugar, you mean.”

Genji enjoyed this. He laughed, they talked. About tea, about games, about how Hanzo did not care for such things, about Hana’s stream the night before. Lúcio was trying to find an opening in his schedule long enough to tour. He was worried about doing it, in case someone would attack his concert, his fans. He’s been putting it off for a while, but he still made music in their off-time.

Eventually Genji and Hanzo faded from the conversation to let Lúcio and Hana talk about their hobbies. Lúcio finished his glass and rinsed it before heading out of the room with Hana, still talking. It left Genji and Hanzo alone for the time being. Hanzo finished his own cup and poured himself another.

“You do not get so distracted easily, brother.”

“Hm.”

“…I understand if you do not wish to speak to me.”

That made Genji’s heart sink.

“Ah, no, _anija_. It isn’t that.”

“ _Then what is it_?” Hanzo replied in Japanese, voice irritated.

Genji fidgeted, not looking at Hanzo. Looking like an actual sparrow, something he hadn’t done since childhood, at least in front of Hanzo.

“ _Hm… I am uncertain. Of myself._ ”

“ _Why is that_?”

“ _I do not feel…. Adequate. Acceptable. I am at peace with myself, at least to a degree that I am no longer bothered by myself. Yet… I feel I still cannot feel accepted. Or adequate for others._ ”

Hanzo paused with a low rumble. _“Adequate_?”

Genji laughed bitterly. “ _I miss it sometimes. Sex. Drinks. Drugs. I am different now, but there are still matters I wish I did not squander. Took advantage of. Now all lost I never thought of it until recently._ ” Genji drummed his fingers.

Hanzo was not too terribly embarrassed by his brother confessing such things. It was nowhere near the level of vulgarity Genji would boast in his younger, teenage days.

However…

“ _Strange that this bothers you now. What caused this to manifest?_ ”

Genji sank, arms crossed as he laid his head in them on the counter. He made a whiny noise.

“ _I was speaking with someone…_ ”

“ _Do they care about you?_ ”

“ _They said so, yes_.”

“ _Then there is nothing to worry about, I don’t think. If they do, that does not matter. The… Way you are now is not insufficient. Lesser. Only different. I do not know if that helps._ ” He muttered the last bit to himself, but hadn’t meant to say it at all.

Genji felt something in his chest blossom. Hanzo may be a difficult man, his confession, that Genji was not lesser only different, was a massive step forward.

As Genji was ready to reply, an obnoxious yawn came from the door as McCree came in tow.

Hanzo did not miss the glaring lack of prosthetic, arm wrapped in tan cloth bandages. Genji noticed the difference, as well, though they were wrapped well – too well.

“Mornin’ y’all.”

“It is noon, you idiot.”

“Not til I get some coffee in me.”

Genji sat up and nodded in McCree’s direction.

“Good afternoon.”

McCree flashed a smile in his direction before making a pot of coffee.

“Ran into Miss Mercy again. I’ll have her check this out.” He gestured his partial arm. “Wrapped it up for me for the time bein’ til then.” He had little to no struggle in doing his task and offered to cook breakfast for Hanzo.

“It is noon,” he repeated.

“Brunch, then. Damn.”

“No thank you.”

“If’ya say so.”

He sat on the inside of the counter where Genji and Hanzo sat on the outside, though he was between the two.

“I wasn’t interruptin’ somethin’ was I?”

“No,” they both answered in unison.

“Sure. Right-o. That’s totally believable,” he teased, finishing his eggs and toast, though did not make an attempt to leave until he had finished.

“Aw, hell,” he said, rinsing his plate.

“Something wrong?” Genji called back, Hanzo drinking quietly.

“Yep. Slept in too late. Didn’t get to watch the mornin’ view.” McCree slipped past the two and saluted, his alternative greeting when his hat was missing.

As he left Hanzo looked perplexed and looked from the door following McCree to Genji, who had closed his hands over his faceplate. He didn’t ask. 

* * *

 

McCree dressed himself more properly, mug sitting at his desk – he’ll take it back later. A regular T-shirt would do – he didn’t feel like pinning a long sleeve up to keep it from flapping. Tucking his shirt in and taking up his hat, he put his prosthetic under his arm and wandered the hall to find Dr. Ziegler’s lab. She was working with Mei, at current, overlooking some mumbo-jumbo McCree didn’t really get into – but it was something about hypothermia, he glanced. McCree tipped his hat at Mei as she greeted him.

“Just page me when you need me, doctor!” She said happily, rolling up a few blueprints. McCree scratched his chin – Mei, the good doctor, and that looked like Torbjorn’s handiwork. Now that was a scary thought.

“Of course, Mei-Ling. I should be open right after I finish with McCree.”

She smiled warmly at the other woman and soon enough McCree was alone with her.

She reached for his prosthetic and asked him to take a seat at one of the private check-up beds. He sat, the crinkly paper was always too loud for his ears but Angela paid it no mind. She rolled a stool before him and asked him questions about pain, how long it’s been going on for, the last time he took off his prosthetic. She scolded him for each answer, taking his temperature, checking his blood pressure, moving the limb back and forth by the elbow.

She was careful to remove the bio-mechanical cover at his stump and McCree hissed. She cleaned the wound – it was full of puss and inflamed skin, a little wet from sweat and McCree was downright embarrassed. She numbed the area and pierced abscesses, multiple though small, and cotton swabbed them clean.

“Really, now, you should take more care of it. The pain and swelling should go down in a couple days. Let it breathe until then.” She applied new bandages around the end of his stump.

“I’ll be holding on to your arm until it gets better,” she added, making McCree groan like a child.

“It’s for the best.”

“I at least get a lollypop?”

Angela made a soft sigh, as if knowing he would ask, and went to her desk, returning with a small handful. McCree chose his favourite and thanked her.

Leaving her office, he palmed at the nub. Still a little numb, but at least it didn’t throb. He was on his way to grab his mug from his room when he found Hanzo walking by him, armed with arrows and bow. He gave him a light tap to his shoulder to get his attention. Hanzo furrowed his brow.

“Hey, you seen your brother?”

“He has gone outside to meditate. I suggest you do not break his concentration.”

“Dang, you’re cold. No worries, just wonderin’ where he’s at ”

“Hmph. Why?”

“Just _wonderin’_ , sheesh. You sure are protective of ‘em.”

“How could I not be?”

Now, McCree had a thousand things he could say – a tease, a quip, a joke. But he bit his tongue hard. He might get swiped in the face, sure, but it wasn’t a personal preservation that made him say nothing, rather he was surely trying not to get on Hanzo’s bad side, and bringing up any bad blood between the Shimada brothers was certain to bring back something nasty in Hanzo. So, he let the man win this round of quips.

“Fair enough. Wasn’t gunna bother him too bad, just wonderin’ where he went. Meet you in the range later?”

Hanzo grunted. “If you must.”

“I insist. Not everyday I get to see your gorgeous face ‘round here.”

Hanzo’s eyes widened somewhat as McCree excused himself.

“See you in a jiffy.”

After picking up his desk and dropping off the mug, McCree stepped outside and took in a deep breath. He tried to put his hands on his hips but frowned deeply, partly embarrassed to remember one was missing. He didn’t mind so much that it was gone, but more or less that he kept _forgetting_ that it was gone. Made him smile for a second, knowing Winston would sometimes adjust glasses that he took off. Still, he looked out and spotted Genji under his usual tree and smiled to himself. He didn’t head toward him right away, however, and instead walked into the patch of grass that surrounded their new HQ. A few bushes of plants, where he had originally picked those irises. He walked past and found more flowers, dahlias, the reddish purple kind, some darker some lighter and striking to look at. He smiled, picking a few bundles carefully, curling his stump arm to help hold the collection as he headed toward Genji.

Genji had taken to meditation outside again while waiting for McCree to finish his appointment with Angela, though his mind had been wandering. He did not find peace at first, only feeling pinpricks of empathetic worry for his friends, the world, talon, his brother, and McCree. He tried to breathe slow, only to hear the steps of heavy boots – though they were muffled into grass, he knew it was McCree.  Genji’s visor flickered as he opened his eyes to peer through.

McCree had a new bundle of flowers in hand and a wide grin on his face. He saw his arm was bandaged anew with white, and Genji felt relieved. When McCree came closer, he took a dahlia from the bunch and knelt by Genji, tucking it into the space between his fin and helmet. Genji felt his heart flutter in his chestplate.

Genji didn’t move from his position until McCree placed the rest of the flowers into his lap. Genji carefully retrieved them all and looked up to McCree.

“ _Arigatou_.”

“Ain’t nothin’, gorgeous,” McCree replied. His hand reached to tilt Genji’s head up. “Best part about you not havin’ a favorite flower, is I get to get you as many different kinds I want.”

Genji touched the top of his fin, feeling for where McCree put the flower.

“Love to stick around, but I’ve got a trainin’ session to get to.” McCree hoisted himself up and saluted the man.

“Oh… Good luck, then,” Genji managed, his heart a mess.

McCree nodded and walked down the hill. The outdoor trash can gained a lollypop stick.

He picked another flower, just one, dark and brooding – _really suits him_ he thought as he placed it gently in his breast pocket.

McCree still had a swagger on him as he slowly reproached the training grounds. He found Hanzo firing arrows and for a moment marveled at the strength – back as taught as his bow and brow pushed forward, furrowed in concentration, a gleam of sweat over his body. McCree realized for a moment that the archer had let the sleeves of his _kyudo-gi_ hang at his waist. When Hanzo fired the arrow and it made a _thunk_ as it hit his target. Hanzo relaxed his gait and lowered his bow. He was content until McCree whistled. Then he just frowned.

“Well hey there, partner, fancy seeing you here.”

“You said you would come, did you not? Why is that a surprise?”

“’S a joke, you know.”

Hanzo made a low grumble as he plucked a new arrow from his quiver, pulling back his bow once more. McCree stared at him, admiring the work of his muscle.

“Shee’it,” he murmured. Hanzo released his arrow too soon and cursed.

“Do not break my concentration,” he scolded, not looking at McCree.

The cowboy just grinned, and watched Hanzo ready his next arrow. He was quiet this time, watching him work. Always wanted to just sit and watch him.

Hanzo let the arrow fly and hit his target. He was silent for a moment longer, notching his next arrow.

“Why did you come?”

“Wanted to. Figured maybe I can stretch, at least.”

Hanzo hummed, contemplatively. He released and notched.

“What of your arm?”

“Seen better days. Doctor’s orders, let it breathe without the gear til it heals up real nice.”

Hanzo clicked his tongue. A _tsk_ and a curse in Japanese.

McCree kind of liked the way Genji and Hanzo had a slight similarity – the _enough to be related_ kind.

 “What kind of fool would let it fester?”

“Me, I s’pose.”

A moment passed. Another arrow.

“You, ah… You ever need to do that? Let your skin breathe? Genji said he does, sometimes. Never always had armor on, not back in our Blackwatch days.”

Hanzo lined up his last arrow and McCree couldn’t stop staring at the work of muscle and god _damn_ how strong must he be to hold it that strong for that long? Hanzo relaxed, McCree could see every shift. He was so enamored he didn’t even hear the arrow fly. He looked up and saw Hanzo was looking at him. He didn’t hear the arrow because he didn’t fire. His bow was down, arrow pointed to the ground, a neutral, stoic look on his face. McCree grinned, like he usually does when caught doing something stupid.

Hanzo looked down and bounced shallowly on his feet.

“…Yes.” He said, taking up his arrow again and firing. The aim a bit off, not that McCree noticed. But Hanzo did.

Hanzo waited for a moment, looking at each arrow before he went to retrieve them. He plucked each out of the dummy and looked at the arrowheads before setting them back in his quiver. Moving back to his place, he notched another but did not pull it back.

“What did Genji look like before his armor?”

McCree was surprised to hear him ask, but didn’t want to pry. Hanzo looked at him again, eyes sharp, but patient. McCree felt into his back pocket, pulling out a leather wallet, outlandishly plain compared to everything else he wore. He opened it and took a folded picture from the inside and walked up to Hanzo, putting his wallet back and deftly unfolded the picture in his single hand. He rubbed it against the crook of his elbow to smooth it out and showed the archer. The picture was of the old Overwatch team, Gabriel Reyes on one end, Hanzo recognized, as well as Jack, Reinhardt, McCree, Torbjorn, Mercy, Winston, McCree, his brother, and another woman – Ana Amari, Pharah’s mother he believed. Genji was wearing a track suit, sleeveless, his arms were bare and dark, his hands mechanical, as were his legs. His stomach fell. Genji still wore his helmet, even in this.

“Used t’wear normal clothes til he got his new armor. Far’s I know his legs were always metal after Miss Mercy helped him.”

He read the expression on Hanzo’s face as a self-pitying one, a deep frown and something in his eyes that made McCree feel a little sad he showed him at all.

“Helmet’s a bit different, but seemed real adamant about what it should look like.”

“He used to have a headband in his youth…” Hanzo said quietly, thinking back to Genji’s helmet design. He was sure the very one was used to create his visor. The notches in the front were too similar. He looked away to find everyone else, younger than they are now. Mercy and McCree surprised him the most, looking different than now. McCree had barely any fur along his jawline.

“Thank you for showing me.” Hanzo moved back to pull his arrow.

“Sure thing.”

McCree stood to watch for some moments longer, giving Hanzo his space as he carefully refolded the picture between his deft fingers. He slid it into his pocket by his wallet, watching the archer pull and release, pull and release. He settled on watching the strain of his arms pulling back the string, his chest giving a gentle heave as he breathed in to pull back. Breathing in with every arrow, like he was shooting his own breath. The cowboy found something romantic in the sentimental aspect of it, breathing your life into your weapon.

“…Why the flower?”

McCree’s brows raised before looking down at himself. He smiled.

“Reminded me of you,” he said.

Hanzo’s shot almost missed. He turned his head sharply to McCree.

“Pocket it right up close,” he added smoothly, hand cupping the flower that sat over his heart.

“Ridiculous,” muttered Hanzo, though with less bite.

After some time, McCree absently grabbed his arm – it stung somewhat and a dull throb returned. He made a groan though tried to keep quiet. However, Hanzo was already turned to him, curiously eying him.

“What is wrong?”

“Arm. Doc’s numbin’ stuff wore off I guess. Prob’ly need some pain killers.” He hissed and breathed through his teeth. “Damn, that smarts. Hell, sorry. I’mma go see Miss Mercy ‘bout pain killers. See you ‘round.”

“…You should ask Genji for more tea.”

“Pfft, again? Man, next thing I know y’all gunna make me cut down on carbs or somethin’.”

Hanzo smiled, somewhat feral, as he released his next arrow. McCree liked the way his little canine poked out.

“Perhaps it would be for the better. You’ve been getting soft since I last saw you, officially, in battle.”

McCree pouted his lip and crossed his arms. “Hey, now,” he warned, though not seriously.

“Well, Mr. Roboto’s out meditating. Any chance you tell me what kind I’d need?”

Hanzo lowered his bow and retied his _kyudo-gi_ to approach McCree.

“If you are so helpless, I will make it for you.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean…”

“I do. Hurry up, you’re wasting my time.”

Despite the harsh words, McCree heard Hanzo’s tone shift into something that wasn’t.

Hanzo watched the cowboy as he left clinging to his arm and frowned. He waited until he was gone to retrieve each arrow and head into the open kitchen.

McCree had a bottle of pills in hand, when he returned some minutes later.

“Gave me enough to last a few days, just in case,” he commented off handedly, seeing Hanzo eye the small orange bottle. He nodded and boiled water, bow and quiver missing.

 Hanzo made a less than happy comment in Japanese as he couldn’t find loose leaves, and instead resorted to ripping the bags open himself. McCree chuckled to himself – Genji did the same thing last night, he recalled.

As Hanzo was ripping open a couple bags, he explained to McCree varying plants, green for metabolism, chamomile for sleep, the versatility of jasmine not just for tea, and other basic things.

“Green’s for metabolism? Dang. No wonder you Shimadas’ are cut like friggin’ diamonds.”

Hanzo paused. “I.. What?”

“Cut. Fit. Muscled.”

“I know what you meant,” he snapped. He hoped frowning would quiet the burn on his face. Thankfully it did.

McCree just laughed and thanked him for the cup, taking a pair of pills with it.

“You would do well to rest yourself if Doctor Ziegler had to check in on you. Moreso if you feel so much pain.”

“Yep, that’s what she said, too. Confiscated my arm ‘n everything.”

“I assume that would include missions.”

McCree sighed a heavy _yeah_.

“Restless?”

“Tch, ain’t you?”

“That is why I am here. Talking with you. There is nothing else but that, and training.”

“Ouch, darlin’, you’ll end up breakin’ my heart.”

Hanzo smiled despite himself.

“While I know you’re jokin’ and all, what exactly _do_ you do all day? Gotta be more than just eat, drink, sleep, and train.”

Hanzo grunted into his cup before setting it down.

“I must make my own arrows,” he started.

“Pfft, by now you prob’ly got plenty, all this time we got doin’ nothin’. PETRAS put on hold or not. What else?”

“Caligraphy.”

“No shit?”

“Yes.” He sounded exasperated as he looked away and drank from his cup.

“Like, Japanese symbols and all? On those scroll lookin’ things?”

Hanzo snorted, “More or less. _Shodo_ and _Sumi-e_. Calligraphy and ink painting.”

“Like Genji’s flower thing?”

Hanzo furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Flower’rangin’. Ikebana?”

“ _So ka…_ Yes, that is what it’s called. Though he did no such things in his youth.”

“Picked a branch from that cherry tree he meditates by. Imported from your home place, right? Some sort a genetic thing that keeps ‘em going year round?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Thought so. Yeah, he picked a branch ‘n when I asked him about it he got all huffy and cute, it was like… Uh…” McCree froze, cup in hand, Hanzo froze mid drink before he finally swallowed.

“Cute?” He asked, raising his brow.

“Like. Uh. Little brother kind of cute?” McCree hoped it was a decent save.

“Ah.” Was all Hanzo said. Apparently it was not.

McCree kept quiet for a while, drinking his cup. It was an acquired taste for him, he supposed – tea. It was less bitter and starting to grow on him.

“So, uh… You paint?”

“I said that, yes.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” McCree cleared his throat. “But, uh.. Yeah, he seemed real into that flower’rangin’ stuff. Anyway, so uh… What’s that calligraphy stuff like?”

Hanzo sighed, finishing his drink. He left the water to cool, and stood, heading toward the door. McCree tasted something bitter before Hanzo looked back at him.

“Are you not interested to see what it is?”

The cowboy beamed. “Sure thing, bow-man.”

Hanzo hoped he would not regret taking McCree – he felt a minor headache coming on from so much interaction. His body was beginning to ache and he felt all too tired.

McCree followed him to his room, taking a good look inside. While his own room had old posters, memorabilia from his old days, and a few pieces and parts along his desk and floor, Hanzo’s room was a neat. A couple rather small potted plants, a framed painting of a simple though old and washed out dragon, a small shrine on a shelf, and a picture he recognized as Hanzo himself with Genji as teenagers. He’s seen a similar one, Genji showed him when their old crew went to the Shambali temple. It was during when Genji was beginning to forgive Hanzo.

 _I can look at him and think not about why he did such a thing, but instead how I could forgive him_.

He looked back to where Hanzo was, opening a drawer by his desk and picking out supplies. A mat, paper on top of it, brushes, a stone-lookin’ thing, another stone-thing but it was pitch black, and a tiny tea pot – white with a design not unlike rippling water. Or maybe scales. McCree couldn’t tell that sort of thing.

Hanzo motioned his head and the cowboy strode over to the other side of Hanzo’s desk, leaning against the wall to look down as Hanzo took a seat.

Hanzo smoothed and held down the paper with a long thin weight at the top edge.

“Everything is traditionally set to the right. Even those who are left-handed learn to paint with their right.”

“Huh, that so.”

Hanzo hummed in response, shaking the small kettle.

“What’s that cute little pot for?”

Hanzo smiled. “Water. For the ink stick.”

“Hell. Stick? Guess it’s more than just fancy handwritin’ yeah?”

Hanzo did not answer but rather showed him. He picked up one of the two stones, the pitch black one – it had kanji on it.

“This is the ink stick. _Sumi_. The _mizusashi_ , the water container, is for dropping water into the ink stone.” He tipped it over to let only a few drops soak the second stone, McCree which realized was a shallow well.

“You scrape the ink stick into the water,” Hanzo’s voice was softer as he did just so. “Too much water, it will run and fill the ink stone too much. Too much ink will make it too thick to paint. Adding more water will lead to the first problem.”

McCree watched as Hanzo’s face was softer – not the hard concentration he saw before in the training room, but more serene. Still sharp and clear, but more at ease.

“Beginning practitioners can use bottled ink. But the process is as much of an art as the painting itself, so masters and artists never use them.”

Hanzo was speaking slowly, and McCree wasn’t sure if it was for him to understand or if Hanzo had just relaxed to that degree.

Hanzo breathed evenly as he padded the ink stone and cleaned the stick with a cloth.

“You must clean the area of excess water and ink,” he added, though quietly.

Lifting his choice of brush, he dipped it into the pooled dark ink.

“It must be thoroughly soaked, or else you may run out of ink mid-stroke. You must never leave your writing half-finished. Once you begin, it must be finished.” His voice changed in tone to emphasize his austerity.

“Any specific reason for that?”

Hanzo paused and looked up at McCree, the cowboy not passing up the chance to look at his eyes.

“It is as though your thoughts and self at that very moment are on the page. It must not go unfinished for that reason.”

McCree gave him a nod, but Hanzo did not look away. Not that McCree minded that gaze on him, but he wondered to himself what it was for. He didn’t ask, not yet, hoping it would last a while longer.

Hanzo eventually looked away and breathed in.

“Clear the air away from your brush with a simple stick. Then stroke to relieve excess ink and flatten your brush.”

McCree shifted against the wall, crossing his arms and leaned a little closer to watch over Hanzo’s movements.

“Whatever you have in mind, be it preplanned or in the moment, you must not stop.”

Hanzo took in another breath as he guided the brush against the paper, the ink against white was a stark contrast, especially when wet. McCree watched the motion, slow and lingering, and Hanzo lifted his brush at moments to make tapered streaks at each stroke. Four strokes, it sort of looked like a person with a hat, arms open and legs apart.

“ _Ten_ ,” he muttered, finishing one character as he moved to the next. It took a large portion of the page and McCree wondered if he’d tell him what it meant by the end.

Though the whole thing looked simple, the way Hanzo moved, McCree was certain it took practice to make it look so effortless. Subconsciously he began to breathe along with Hanzo, as if doing so out of sync would ruin whatever he was working on. A little box then a bigger box next to it with lines through both of them. Hanzo wasn’t sure if they were separate characters or one whole piece. Japanese always looked like a bunch of pictures to him.

Hanzo set the brush on a little holder and took another breath. The characters were bold and striking.

“ _Mei_.”

Hanzo pressed a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing gently. He felt relieved already, headache dulled and soreness dwindling.

After a moment, McCree finally asked, “Can I ask you what it means?” Hanzo was surprised by the degree of softness in his voice, not quite a whisper. Hanzo grinned.

 “Something you remind me of.” He sounded accusatory.

“Aw, hell, better not be _dumbass_ in Japanese.”

Hanzo snorted and sat for a moment longer.

“I want to make another,” he said.

“Nothin’ stoppin’ ya. Unless that’s code for _get the hell outta my room_.”

Hanzo shook his head, voice a little lighter. “No, I don’t mind. The paper will need to dry, I will frame it.”

Hanzo reached over, close to McCree’s leg to open a drawer. A pile of similar calligraphy filled most of it. McCree saw some were more complex than the one Hanzo made just now. The drawer closed and Hanzo opened the one above it, making a small noise to himself. He brought out a frame, simple and black, careful with the glass. He set it aside to the right, and moved his paper to the left, making room for another, clean sheet.

“I could watch you forever, gorgeous.”

Hanzo snapped to look up at McCree who just smiled lazily at him.

“Don’t say stupid things. Forever is a long time.”

“S’pose it is.”

Hanzo repeated his steps though without instructing McCree. He re-dipped his brush and smoothed it out, a rectangular horizontal piece of paper. His strokes were swift, thinner than the last. However, instead of a character, Hanzo flit his brush in gentle strokes, making a small fan of bristle-like patterns at the left end of the page. He redipped his brush and made two thin strokes, and proceeded to make light, gentle wisps. McCree eventually recognized it as the face of a dragon, minimalistic in design. Hanzo redipped his brush again and made a larger, thicker stroke from the base of the dragon’s main across the bottom of the page, twisting the body of the dragon. His circular motion made the illusion of scales until his brush tapered at the tail as he ran out of ink. Redip and brush, redip and brush, the dragon had a fanned tail.

One last dip after minutes of careful painting and Hanzo thinned the brush once more, starting at the right end, he made careful, broad sweeps of his brush.

“ _Kita_. It means north,” Hanzo said quietly, finishing at the last stroke.

He tilted his brush to start the next piece, a flicked twirl mid-stroke. The brush was smoothly gliding along the paper as he finished the last character.

“ _Kaze_. Wind.”

Something about how Hanzo looked, a solemn look, made McCree think back, trying to dig in his memory. He recalled, in a moment, Genji’s story about two dragons, North and South. It was too long ago to remember it all, but the story had significance to Genji enough for McCree to understand the gist. Enough to figure out who was North and who was South to the Shimada brothers.

“That’s a mighty gorgeous painting.”

“Thank you.”

“Wish I had the patience for somethin’ like that.”

“You had the patience to sit and watch me.”

“If it were anyone else, I probably wouldn’t.”

Hanzo gave a breathy laugh.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I like watchin’ ya work. You bein’ so calm makes me calm, too, I guess. Dunno what it is about you Shimada brothers, but there’s always somethin’ real amazing about watching you guys do regular everyday things. Could watch you make tea everyday for the rest of my life, I’d probably still laugh when you guys get mad about whatever it is you do.”

“…You ramble like you’ll die tomorrow.”

“Heh, yeah sorry. I’ll get out of your hair. Pain meds finally kickin in. Maybe that’s it, I dunno.” McCree pushed himself from the wall and plucked the flower from his pocket, laying it down next to Hanzo’s ink supplies and walked around toward the door. He looked back.

“Thanks, by the way.”

“It is no trouble.”

McCree grinned sheepishly by the door.

“Y’know… Call me a romantic, but I really felt you, ah… Showed me some real part of yourself. Maybe it’s just me. So… Thank you for that. Means somethin’. Hell, I’m gunna babble at you again. Thanks.”

Hanzo waited until the cowboy left and he heard his heavy boots fall quieter down the hall. He breathed in deep and touched his chest, looking at the flower by his brushes.

“ _Shimatta_ ,” he grunted, letting himself flush a bit pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now technically, I posted the first chapter at 3 in the morning. It is now 2 in the afternoon. That counts as a day, I'm calling it.  
> Next chapter will focus more on Hanzo-flirting before the plot finally starts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More McFlirting. Last fluffy bit before the plot officially starts. And later, pain.

McCree sauntered back into the kitchen, finding Hana, Tracer, and Mei putting groceries away.

“Ladies!” McCree greeted excitedly, drawl thick as he tilted his hat.

The three greeted him at once.

“We got those cacti you asked for! Was surprised to see they sell any around here,” Lena mentioned, opening a back to reveal a large wrapped portion of nopales.

“Think it’ll go good with kimchi?” Hana asked him.

McCree puts up finger guns, “Hell yeah, might as well try at least. Spicy goes great. Pretty tasteless by itself.”

“You alright, love? Arms gone and all.”

 “Pfft, yeah, got some pain meds for this darn thing,” he held up his arm. “S’okay though, be healed up in a few days.”

Before any of the girls could comment, a lightly thumping beat greeted them as Lúcio rolled in on his skates, carrying three bags on each arm, his hands preoccupied with an MP3 player.

“Alright, that’s the last of it!” Pocketing the player, he let the bags slide off his arms smoothly onto the counter.

“Hey cowboy, how you feelin’? Mei told me ‘bout you and your arm, man. Hope it gets better soon.”

McCree chuckled, “Thanks. Yeah, just my stupid ass not giving it proper care. No worries, be fine in a few days s’all.”

McCree offered to help put away groceries and found that there were quite a few boxes of bulk, particularly canned fruits, soups, and peanut butter.

“Oh yeah, Mei-Ling. What’s that blueprint you got goin’ on with Miss Mercy?”

Mei looked at him a bit surprised and pursed her lips.

“Hmm… Oh! Torbjörn and I were going to attempt to make a new kind of turret defense system! Combining a few of the team’s weapons, like Zaryas’s particle cannon or my own endothermic blaster! We hope it’ll work out. Mercy suggested to ask Symmetra for the help in its design. We were asking about temperature adjustment to determine fatal frostbite and hypothermia, at varying degrees of coldness and speed of coldness.”

McCree whistled, “Dang, that sounds dangerous. And _fun_. In a real badass kind of way.”

As the groceries were put away, Mei excused herself, having to go find Symmetra. Lena, Hana, Lúcio, and McCree talked amongst themselves, at first about music – and Hana poked fun at him for liking _country and western_. Nearly an hour later, Lena was on her way out, and nearly bumped into Genji.

“Oh, sorry dear! Didn’t see you there!”

Genji laughed, telling her it was alright.

“Oooh, those are gorgeous! You picked ‘em from outside, yeah?”

Genji looked down at the bouquet McCree had gifted them earlier, and to spare both himself and the cowboy whatever embarrassment, he simply said, “They’re for flower arranging,” to avoid answering.

“I gotcha! They’re beautiful, love. Well, anyway, I’ve got to go! Winston’ll be mad if I’m late again. Cheers!”

Everyone waved her off as Genji stepped forward, bundle in hand.

“You talk ‘bout that flower’rangin’ stuff but I’ve yet to see anything from you,” McCree commented.

“I do so in my private time, usually.”

Lúcio and Hana quieted their chatter and looked at one another.

“However, if you’re curious, I can show you. It’s different from western arrangements. There is a structure to _ikebana_ that needs to be followed, but it also gives a lot of freedom to how to make the arrangement.”

“Two lessons in one day, you Shimadas are gunna tire me out.” McCree stood and Genji tilted his head.

Lúcio and Hana looked between them and each other expectantly, as if on the edge of their seats.

“What do you mean?”

“Hanzo showed me somethin’ real spiritual not a little bit ago.” The two began to walk down the hall, Genji holding the flowers close as he listened to McCree. “Real handy with a brush, lemme tell you.”

As they disappeared back down to the hall, Hana and Lúcio mouthed to one another, _oh my god_.

“You mean painting?” Genji asked.

“Yeah, sumi something. Calligraphy and painting. Gave me the privilege to watch him work. Felt somethin’ while I did, it was surreal honestly.”

Before Genji could comment, the pair spotted Hanzo beside Genji’s room, holding two framed pictures in his arms.

As he stood straight, he found himself looking at the two.

“Genji. McCree.”

“Brother,” Genji greeted back.

Hanzo headed down the hall toward McCree and Genji. He paused and handed McCree one of the frames and Genji the other before walking further down, avoiding Genji and McCree both. Genji drummed his fingers on the frame, watching his brothr leave. McCree looked down at his and saw it was the _shodo_ calligraphy work he made.

“Well I’ll be mighty flattered.”

Genji looked over curiously and McCree tilted it to give him a better view.

“ _Tenmei_?”

“Hanzo said somethin’ ‘bout I reminded him of whatever this is. Didn’t tell me what it was. Asked him if it was like, dumbass or somethin’. Pretty sure it ain’t, I was just jokin’, but kinda still wonderin’ you know?”

Genji nodded, humming. After a moment, McCree shifted his weight.

“So, uh… Any chance you’re going to tell me?”

Genji looked up at him, green visor flickered as if it were laughing at him.

“Not a one.”

“Aw, c’mon! You damn boys and your secrets.”

Genji did laugh, filtered static and all.

“But I _will_ tell you it’s something unexpected. Charming, really.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

The cyborg looked down to see the other painting Hanzo had left. Genji had stared at it for so long, McCree cleared his throat.

“You gunna stare at it all day?”

“Ah... Right… Sorry.”  

“Watched him make that one, too. Real work of art, watchin’ him paint.”

“I bet it was. Did he tell you about this one?”

“Said something like _North Wind_ I think, that’s all. I may not have a lot of know-how about Japanese culture and all, but I do still remember you tellin’ me that story, about North and South dragons. The Shimada Clan story. Way back when we were still young in Blackwatch, too.”

Genji nodded.

“…We are making progress.”

Inside, Genji set down the painting at his desk for now, setting the bundle of flowers as well. He took McCree’s own painting for the time being, as well.

McCree looked at the collection of varying potted plants and flowers. His room was about as bare as Hanzo’s save for the flowers, a couple photos – one of himself and Hanzo, similar to the one in his brother’s room, a stand for his swords, and a few scattered notes and pages with scribbled Japanese, as well as a handheld game currently turned off. Not surprising to McCree, considering Genji and Hanzo had both, at some point, talked about Genji’s love of the arcade.

Genji cracked his knuckles – a strange airy sound as they were segmented mechanical joints pressured with air, not bone or blood.

“ _Ma…_ It’s more an eye for aesthetic and simplicity. You take your preferred bowl, and your _kenzan_ ,” Genji picked up the small holder, circular and full of needles. “Fill your container with water and place the _kenzan_ inside. _Ikebana_ is arranged around the shape of a triangle, or at least three points. Sometimes its thin parts, sometimes there is a triangle hidden inside, and sometimes its symbolized by three different plants.”

McCree watched Genji as he spoke a bit more rapidly than Hanzo. He picked up basic gardening tools, nothing but the flower holder seemed to have a special name for it, not like Hanzo’s painting supplies.

“Heaven, humans, sun, moon, earth, and other such things are what are typically represented. Different schools teach different things. Some schools included Omnic. It's still a controversial issue, whether or not to include Omnic with humans or as a separate thing, or include them at all.”

Genji wasn’t as good of a teacher as Hanzo, he was only parroting what he could remember in words, but had an easy enough time actually cutting and constructing a design, at least to McCree.

“You don’t just stick them in, though. You have to actually think about how to compliment everything. Heaven should be up top, then earth, then man. Or whatever other combination you are trying.”

Genji cut the new flowers, the dahlias. He looked at them, twirled one between his fingers.

“You pick good colors,” he said as he plucked a dark one, paired it with an iris and stuck a long, straight leaf with them, stiff and vertical between them.

After a moment of turning the vase and seeing all angles, finding the best one, he sat quietly.

“If you don’t mind, I would like to train," he said suddenly, turning to look at McCree.

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll get out of your hair.”

Genji stood, hand on McCree’s bicep.

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant. Let me rephrase – would you like to train with me?”

“Sure thing. Dunno how much help I’ll be, though.”

“Shoot at me. Help me deflect, and I’ll help you reload,” the cyborg offered. Genji moved past McCree closer to the center of the small room, clicking his armor. His arms could breathe now, as steam rose from them. He removed the metal brace around his chest, but left the torso piece on. He patted his own arms and took up the smaller of his swords.

“Well, then, let’s get to it.”

* * *

 

The next two days passed with little else going on. The team’s mission was a massive success, few injuries as they dispatched a small group of Talon agents trying to take back a former base, infiltrating and hoping to take back the information stored within. Reinhardt’s booming voice was a welcome, as well as he and Zarya’s banter. The training grounds were a little more full, usually the previous two in friendly competition, Soldier shooting, and Torbjörn and Mei were working with Winston in the lab on their combined turret idea. Torbjörn called McCree a moron upon finding out about his arm, waving his own clawed prosthetic and scolding the man. He missed the two, dwarf and giant, sonorous, boisterous, and speak their minds. They’ve been in Overwatch since the beginning – they weren’t father figures, McCree snickered at the thought, but they were family, gruff and all.

Zarya and Reinhardt were in near-constant competition, but friendly and full of laughter. Zarya challenged him to lifting, picking up Mei-Ling in a swift swing with one arm as she squeaked in protest of the sudden action. Lúcio and Hana ran up to Reinhardt, grabbing onto his arms as he lifted them both, flexing and grinning.

“Come, now,” Zarya commanded, gesturing for the two. They were placed back down and Zarya picked them up – Mei, Hana, and Lúcio all in one arm, clinging to one another.

“I will catch you, do not worry,” she assured, bright and happy, her other arm to hold the three of them above her head before suddenly dropping them, catching them all in her arms with a bright smile.

The base was full of life again, and while the cowboy missed it, there was a certain charm to the quietude of before.

Mercy, as promised, gave him back his prosthetic with the warning that he should try keeping it off during sleeping, bathing, and take it off after extensive training or missions lest the sweat could cause more damage.

He was surprised when Hanzo reproached him, stern as ever, but something in his eye that Jesse couldn’t quite figure.

“Would you care to join me, again? For painting.” His voice was flat, monotonous, as though it were embarrassing to ask.

“I could watch you sit an’ do nothin’ all day as long as it’s with you, darlin’.”

“Don’t say such stupid things,” Hanzo murmured, turning on his heel and leading the way.

McCree was surprised to find another chair at the desk and promptly sat, watching Hanzo gather his things, expression relaxed, and wetting the stone and ink.

Hanzo didn’t explain the characters on this one, though there were more of them, a bit more complex than just a single word, McCree thought. A poem? He didn’t ask, not wanting to break Hanzo away from his calm.

Hanzo created the same piece twice more, the strokes a little different. McCree figured it was a way of practice – can’t just be perfect all the time. While he spotted the differences, he couldn’t tell which were flaws. It all looked beautiful to him. He subconsciously kneaded at his arm, where flesh and machine met, dulling the pain. Hanzo didn’t notice until he finished his third piece, taking a breath and stretching as he turned to McCree.

He furrowed his brow.

“Remove it,” Hanzo demanded.

McCree was confused until he figured out what Hanzo meant.

“Hell, I _just_ got this thing back on, c’mon now.”

“ _Remove_ it.”

McCree grunted, removing the arm again. He disconnected its rod.

“All of it.”

“Hell.”

He disconnected the protective bio layer. Hanzo took it all from him, setting it on his work bench.

Hanzo came back up to the man and sized him up, looking up and down.

“Somethin’ you need?”

“Sit down.” He gestured to the bed.

McCree stopped his protesting and just did as he was told. Hanzo sat beside him, taking his arm by the elbow, stretching it out, the bed creaking with their combined weight.

“Is it still sore?”

“Nah. Bit stiff, that’s all.”

Hanzo grabbed McCree by his stump, and the cowboy huffed to himself. _What’s with everyone doin’ that?_

Though, he turned around and let Hanzo handle him. Rough fingers wrapped around the end, around the bandages – still there to help soften the sting of hard metal on his skin. He squeezed gently. Hanzo’s other hand touched his forearm and rubbed his palm along McCree’s skin. McCree’s breath left him as he realized Hanzo was massaging his arm, both hands just below the elbow pressing tan skin between them, fingers kneading as he did so. He took a deep inhale of his cigarillo and blew it away from Hanzo. He flinched when Hanzo’s hands made it to the end of his scarred limb. The archer pulled away immediately.

“I did not mean to hurt you,” he whispered.

“Ain’t nothin’, bit sensitive is all.” He replaced his cigarillo between his teeth, but did not light it, not in here. Just a fixation. Hanzo took it as an affirmation and continued to work and massage McCree’s missing arm.

McCree sighed, relaxing under Hanzo’s fingers as they worked up and down his arm, not just the end of his stump. Minutes went by, and ink dried on paper, dark on brilliant white.

Hanzo eventually slowed and stopped, a feather light touch as he just rubbed the end of McCree’s arm. His hand slid up the cowboy’s limb, past his elbow, over his biceps, over muscle, and stopped at his shoulder – one hand there, the other at the end of the cowboy’s arm.

“Is there anything else giving you trouble?” He asked in a sanguine tone.

A languid hum of approval McCree never meant to release – “If you’re offerin’, I’m not fightin’.”

Hanzo, carefully, gingerly, pushed McCree forward, turning him – the cowboy’s back to him. Both hands started at his shoulders, thumbs grinding in circles at his muscle. He heard Hanzo snort and his hat was plucked from his head, set beside them on the bed.

Fingers rubbed his shoulders, thumbs at his neck, palms squeezing and relenting – the feeling was blissful and McCree hadn’t had a proper massage in ages. Usually he helped soothe his own arm or neck, but this was better. Much better.

Hanzo was a little too aware than he liked of the quiet sighs of relief and bliss that he worked out from McCree. He let his nails scratch down McCree’s clothed back midway before rubbing up and kneading more. He noticed the slight gooseflesh at the nape of his neck, though covered by wild, earthy hair. He repeated the motion a few more times in the midst of his ministrations. Eventually, he slowed, then stopped, smoothing out McCree’s shirt. The cowboy cracked his neck and turned back to the man.

“Disgusting,” Hanzo commented.

“Pfft, what, you never crack your bones?”

“Stretching means I don’t need to make such awful noises.”

“C’mon, at least try it.”

Hanzo frowned and huffed, but finally said, “Fine.”

McCree reconnected his arm, flexing his fingers to make sure he did so correctly.

Hanzo was not expecting McCree to grab his face. He reared back somewhat.

“Whoa there, relax.” McCree’s fingers felt under his jaw and behind his ears.

“Breathe in real deep, relax,” he instructed. As Hanzo let his breath escape him, he hitched as McCree sharply turned his head, his neck popping.

McCree burst into a hearty, deep guffaw. Hanzo rubbed his neck. It didn’t hurt, he was quite relieved actually. A strange pressure he was unaware of was somehow gone. But he still frowned.

“Oh man, that look!”

Hanzo waited for McCree to quiet down, rubbing his neck, still wondering why it was relieving – what a sickening sound.

“Oh man. How’s it feel, partner?” McCree was glowing, eyes bright as he took back his hat.

“Surprising. Light,” Hanzo said in an almost-awe.

“Yep. Get’s a little addicting, sometimes,” and to make his point, he cracked his human knuckles.

“It’s still disgusting.”

McCree glanced, not really meaning to, over to a clock.

“Aw, hell, it’s been almost two hours.”

“You have somewhere to go?” Hanzo asked, quirking a brow.

“Was s’pposed to meditate with Zen and Genji. Hell, maybe they’re still out there.” He stood up and brushed off his legs.

“Thanks, by the way. Feel much better.”

Hanzo nodded.

“Y’know, I hardly get to see you ‘round, in general,” he added.

“When I am not on mission, I am either here or in training.”

McCree made a face that almost didn’t believe him.

“If you say so. I’m up in the grounds quite a bit. Guess our schedules never really match up.”

Hanzo laughed, and McCree couldn’t help but crack a smile. He liked hearing that from Hanzo. Warm and deep, a little gusty.

“You wake past noon and haphazardly find yourself in the grounds when you are not glued to my brother’s side."

McCree wondered if it really seemed like that – stuck at Genji’s tail all the time. He felt bad for a second before Hanzo continued.

“Our difference in schedule is that I have one, and you do not.”

McCree snorted and crossed his arms, smiling wide and warm.

“Hell, you got me there. Can’t even keep an appointment, that’s for sure.”

“Hurry up, before you’re late any further.”

“Alright, alright,” McCree was on his way out.

Hanzo wondered if Zenyatta’s never-ending patience would be tried with McCree.

* * *

 

Genji spoke with his master some time after his debriefing. The mission was rather smooth, but Zenyatta suspected the information, which had been copied and sent to Winston for decryption, was too important for them to simply let it be.

“Do you think they will come back for it?”

“I am certain they will try to find a way. Though we have no idea what it is they actually have stored. The base was an old laboratory, so secret experimentation took place, but evidence of what, exactly, was not found. It was cleared of most equipment.”

Genji was silent, contemplating the news.

“They have since dwindled in numbers. They would not risk a full frontal attack on us. It would be risky for them to even attempt to infiltrate us at all, here.”

“Their lack of power at that particular base was strange. Perhaps they wanted us to take it,” Zenyatta commented.

The dread hung between them.

“I have voiced this with Winston. I only hope it is not something we should not open.”

Genji nodded, the two of them finding their usual spot beneath the tree.

“Is McCree not joining us?” Zenyatta asked. Genji laughed.

“Despite what he likes to think, he doesn’t keep track of time very well.”

* * *

 

McCree sauntered from the room, cigarillo placed back in its case as he passed the window. He saw Genji and Zenyatta still outside. He sucked in his lips, a rap of his fingers against his jeans. He didn’t want to disturb them now, but if he didn’t show it’d be a lack of good faith. He scratched the back of his neck, anxious for one reason or another as he tried to calm his nerves and walk out toward them.

The feeling melted, suddenly and gracefully as Genji regarded him, a subtle movement of his head and a wave.

McCree sat beside them, apologized, and both Zenyatta and Genji told him there was nothing to apologize for. He breathed in, then out, nose then mouth, and relaxed. He definitely needed to.

On the next day, he was told he’d have an upcoming mission. Winston hadn’t figured out how exactly to decrypt the drive they were given, but he and Athena were doing their best. Another Talon base, an old and decrepit one, was under new surveillance. They found a few snipers creeping by, stalking the grounds. It was assumed there would be another strike, similar to the last.

They were right.

Soldier and Symmetra took the lead, Soldier covering for the woman as she laid out her turrets and scanned debris for anything important. McCree has the ground, and Hanzo had the beams up top, Mercy and Lúcio tracking them both.

Talon agents fell, one by one. McCree fanned his hammer to take out a larger one – a super soldier from the old program turned agent. He frowned. A lot of those lately. A small barrage of agents caught them at the exit, firing and shooting and McCree ducked away behind felled cement, Lúcio riding across the wall to blast them away and pump up Hanzo’s speed. Mercy gave him brief strength before falling, her wings shutting off suddenly to meet the grounder faster to get out of the way of oncoming fire.

A familiar wave of words filled the air like a strong zephyr through the broken building.

McCree could barely breathe. He’s seen it before, he’s seen it plenty, but the rush of riptide winds running past him, the chill of air, the electricity in the atmosphere as the pair of brilliant, cerulean dragons roared like thunder and crashed into whatever they desired – it was always a pure type of awe. Fear and wonder.

The dragons dissipated into the air, and while McCree was running, pumped full of a adrenaline, speed boost, and a stream line of power boost. It was a bit of a risk, their current set up, but with so much feeling in his body – wonder, awe, fear, determination, blood, sweat, speed, strength – McCree lined up his shot, three Talon assassins, burned and weakened enough by dragon’s graces. Time slowed, he felt his heart beat, the flutter of his blood in his veins. He breathed in, raised his gun, deadeye shot them down. As they fell, time sped up again and he felt tired. Mercy’s stream left him, Lúcio’s beat quieted down, and Hanzo landed by his side. Soldier caught up with them from the other side, along with Symmetra tagging behind him.

“I have secured what we needed,” she said, holding up a cube of light, a chip ascended within.

“All this for that little thing..?” McCree asked.

“Same thing as last time. We’ll hand it to Winston and Athena, after this. Clear the perimeter, then head back.”

Minimal injuries, a small chip, too few Talon agents. McCree didn’t like it, and neither did anyone else.

Hanzo sat beside him in the armored truck, Mercy tending to some scratches on Lúcio’s arm, Symmetra sitting in front with Soldier 76, tapping away at a report.

“Take it you don’t like this, neither?”

“No. It is too easy, regardless of Talon being undermanned. They are throwing away their agents, sending them to death.”

“They like efficient. Killin’ their own shouldn’t be efficient, right?”

“I am uneasy, but there is little was can do.”

McCree nodded.

Lúcio chatted with Mercy as she smoothed her fingers over small knicks to close them.

A moment passed.

“You know… I’ve always been real interested in those dragons you got. Damn gorgeous, if you ask me.”

Hanzo, still tense, still in fight or flight, only grunted.

“I’ve seen Genji’s a few times, too. Follows his sword, it’s a real looker.”

He thought of the similar electric air, gust of wind that followed the smell of rain. It was similar to what he felt around Hanzo’s dragons when they released, but different enough to tell them apart.

“Why you got two dragons, anyhow?”

McCree found that was not a good question as Hanzo gave him a sharp, menacing stare.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, face dropping. Dragons. Shimadas. Probably hurt something in him that he never really meant to.

Hanzo sighed, looking down.

“No, don’t be. When my brother died – when I _thought_ he died – I chose to train my abilities further, push myself. I felt I owed him that much. I learned to control both dragons. I had only the one in my youth, but the weight of loss compelled me to try and use them both. North and South. They did not leave me when I met Genji once more. And I do not know why they allowed me to do so, when he still lived. But I am no less thankful for their consideration. It is a great honor I will continue to uphold.”

McCree’s heard Hanzo talk about personal things now and again, in the time they’ve spent as teammates during the Recall, but more and more he’d always be surprised, pleasantly so, when Hanzo shared something new like this.

Back at headquarters, Hanzo immediately went to shower. Symmetra and Soldier chatted – which was strange to McCree but they both were sharp witted, logical, and to the point enough where their companionship made sense. Symmetra even made new upgrades to Soldier’s pulse rifle. The hard light technology to it made it a rather efficient weapon. They talked about tactics, missions, and what others did in their off time – neither had the time nor need to relax, always busy, always doing something for the greater good. McCree would never stop being amazed by any of the team and the unlikely companions that came together. He smiled to himself as he greeted Genji in the kitchen, taking a bowl of kimchi and cactus with barbeque pork – Hana had cooked for them, with help from Zenyatta and McCree.

“I noticed something,” he started, the pair making their way outside, away from the loud hustle of everyone grabbing food.

“And what would that be?”

“Dragons.”

“Dragons?”

“Yep. Somethin’ just… Real amazing about ‘em. Yours and Hanzo’s. Make me feel equal parts scared out of my wits, and really just. I dunno! _Fuck_ , they’re cool.”

Genji laughed, it was a lovely sound.  It made McCree’s heart flutter.

“But like… They each got a scent to ‘em, too.”

“Scent?”

“yeah, like thunderstorms and ocean or somethin’. I feel it, goosebumps all over when it happens, kinda makes me feel alive.”

Genji nodded with a humming noise.

“It is similar when calling them. Time stops for a moment, you feel your breath, heart, and soul. It burns and burns and there’s… Strong wind around you, and the lightning, yes? It becomes the dragon, and the dragon my blade. At least for me. It is probably different for Hanzo. Especially with two.”

“Hmm, yeah.”

They strolled down the walkway, the smell of freshly watered grass around them as the violet haze of dusk engulfed the sky, a gentle zephyr washed across the grass mingled with the spicy scent of McCree’s dinner plate.

* * *

 

It was late at night, but not AM just yet. McCree cleaned his plate, set it with the others. Genji retired early – it’s been a while since he got any real rest. McCree found himself strolling toward the training grounds, bumping into Reinhardt and Zarya leaving. They both clasped his shoulders, and McCree swore they bruised him small body. Soldier was leaving, too, but not before stopping McCree and saying, “Great job. Really.”

McCree nodded with a _thanks_.

“Make sure you actually get rest, this time, Jesse,” Soldier scolded him. “Pulling your Deadeye shit takes a lot out of you, nearly as much as those dragons the Shimadas have. Seriously, take some time off, we’ll be trying to decrypt for a while.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

“I’m not your… Whatever.”

Soldier 76 left him but McCree still heard a sharp whistle and a _thunk_.

Coming into view was Hanzo, firing arrows at a few targets each.

“You haven’t even bathed,” Hanzo commented, almost sneering.

“I can do that in the morning, chill out amigo.”

“Hmph.”

Hanzo fired again. His face was gentler this time, not as deep in thought, but still focused.

The loud bangs of McCree’s gun followed suit, firing into dummies. A fanned hammer here, a few single shots there. Hanzo didn’t realize he stopped shooting arrows to listen to the gunfire until Jesse said something.

“You alright there? Didn’t interrupt, did I?”

Hanzo snapped from his daze and lowered his bow, looking to McCree.

“No.”

“Really, if I’m botherin’ you or somethin’ – ”

“You are.”

“Well, alright then, I’ll just – ”

Hanzo marched toward him, bow holstered over his shoulder.

“I heard you speak with Genji.”

“That so?”

McCree lowered his gun and placed it back on his hip.

“I should not have listened, I did not hear much.”

McCree waited patiently for Hanzo to get to his point, thumbs hooked into his belt.

“You spoke of dragons. Forgive my… Intrusion. But may I ask what you told him?”

McCree’s face lit up and Hanzo did not expect that.

“Was just tellin’ him how your dragons got a nice smell to ‘em.”

“I… What?”

McCree grinned.

“Didn’t tell him what you told me on the ride back, if that’s what you’re wonderin’. I like to think I’m a trustworthy guy, you know? But I told him, god _damn_ , your dragons are real fuckin’ cool. Felt like, everything around me was a brewin’ storm, smelled like it too, like lightning and rain. No matter how many times I see ‘em, neither, they never get old. Yours and Genji’s are real similar, but I can still tell ‘em apart, they smell nice but still pretty different. He said it’s the same with him, when he summons his it’s like he’s in the eye of a storm. Made me wonder what y’all smell like up close.”

Hanzo sucked in a breath and Jesse bit his tongue, smiling big but more like a forced one – he said something stupid again.

“I, uh… You, uh… Shit, I keep making things weird.”

“…I wouldn't know.” Hanzo said preemptively.

“What’s that now?”

“Perhaps… You could tell me.”

McCree felt his heart thump against his chest, neck, and wrists. Shit. Hell. Damn.

He leaned in close, and Hanzo let the man touch his bare arm gently, calloused fingers barely brushing to his inked-and-tatted skin. McCree nose was by his jaw, and he could feel that brown coarse hair rub against his cheek. His other hand, the metal one, lightly cupped Hanzo's other cheek.

McCree paused, sitting there, his shallow breath made the hair on Hanzo’s neck prickle. He closed his eyes and took a quiet breath.

He smelled of petrichor and a natural hazy musk that lingered, something earthy in the gentle rain and the static in the air before a brewing storm. McCree’s hands clutched at the fabric of Hanzo’s sleeves, but not his arms – he was afraid he’d lose himself too wild, too soon if he felt the man’s strong arms beneath his hands. Hanzo gave him an airy sigh, one hand gripped around the shaft of his hard wood bow, the other found a place to lie at the cowboy’s hip. A space still kept their bodies apart, not quite flush against each other. McCree opened his eyes, pulling back with that too-romantic gaze of his, looking down at Hanzo.

“Sorry, I…” McCree began but trailed off. Hanzo tried to pull McCree closer but the cowboy didn’t relent. Hanzo immediately let him go.

“Sorry,” McCree said again, something sad, a little scared, flashed in his eyes. “Gotta… Just gotta…”

“Leave, then.”

Hanzo’s voice was stern, but not as hateful as McCree would have thought.

“Right.”

He let go of the man, not realizing he was still clinging onto his sleeves for dear life. He rubbed his hands along his own thighs, a nervous habit, before he swept past the archer to leave the grounds entirely.

He quickly made his way down the hall, past the labs, through the kitchen, and in the other hall toward his room. He nearly ran over Genji, who was out of his armor, eyes curious as the glow of a white screen from his handheld lit his face. McCree took half a moment to notice he was completely out of his armor, wearing soft pyjamas without the glow of neon.

“Shit, sorry,” he said quickly, trying to move past Genji.

“Are you alright, Jesse?”

“H-hey, yeah, fine, totally fine. Brother smells nice.” _Dammit_ , McCree cursed in his head, gritting his teeth.

“Fuck, shit, I mean.” He paused to look at Genji, whose eyes were wide, surprised and perplexed entirely.

McCree said nothing else as he turned swiftly on the ball of his foot and slipped into his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way I'm writing McCree is how I talk normally irl, minus the pet names. Which is hilariously embarrassing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Plot begins. The Omnics rise. An Ominous Glow.  
> Terror in the Depths of the Sea.

Winston had found only bits and pieces of information – bio-mechanical technology and human experimentation. Athena suggested the combination of the two, if advanced enough, were capable of creating enhanced cyborgs from birth. The second ship revealed they were working on super soldier cloning within a certain time frame.

Soldier growled, fist tightening.

“That’s why they haven’t been giving a damn about their own. They’re cloning them over and over.”

Morrison clenched his fists. Symmetra crossed her arms.

“My concern is why they let us have this information so easily.”

“A warning.” The table turned their attention to Zarya.

“They have this, now. They can make copy soldiers. Make one good man and copy him many times. Over and over. One super soldier. A warning to tell us, _if you continue, we will fight_. They are building their bases back, no? They still have Widowmaker and Reaper. Good soldiers. What if they clone them? _Eto pizdets_.”

“That all implies they’ve either already have done so,” Angela started. “Or that they have a new, quite large, base. We’ve been trying to find their little anthills for quite some time, but perhaps we’ve been too focused on doing that. We find their smaller regiments and crush them, yes, but we haven’t found the main sector. We need to find it.”

By the next two days of searching, Winston and Mei were able to find an abnormality off the coast of Yucatán. McCree, Lúcio, Zenyatta, Hanzo, Mei, and Pharah were assigned to the point to check an off coast change in climate – something was off, and far too hot. Enough to cause cetacean strandings at the same coast for the past few weeks, and beached whales still found themselves stranded even as they bought their tickets.

They were given room to a hotel on shore – something far more luxurious than they usually could afford, but were reminded that this was still a mission, not a vacation.

A flight was booked for each of them, although they took two separate flights out for safety. Pharah, Zenyatta, and Lúcio on one, McCree, Hanzo, and Mei on the other.

“Fareeha should be able to look out to shore – Winston was able to extend her fuel tank so she can fly for far longer periods at a time, and higher, too! She and Zenyatta will be the ones to scout the location while myself and you, Hanzo, will take the boat. Lúcio and McCree, you two are going to keep watch on shore and alert us if anything happens.”

They spoke about the mission in the bustling airport, spotting Pharah with Lúcio and Zenyatta across a ways. Fareeha waved at them with a smile, Lúcio and Zenyatta noticed them and waved as well.

Zenyatta and Hanzo, each, had to move through a specific type of detector and pat down. Hanzo felt almost naked, now, without his usual armor. He donned regular clothes, a button up, blazer, slacks, belt, and dark leather shoes. He wore different prosthetics underneath his slacks, his armored ones elsewhere. He was annoyed for the pat down on his legs, but said nothing of it. McCree trimmed his beard and smoothed out his hair, but kept his hat. Mei bought and gave him a pin to replace the Overwatch badge for the time being – a sheriff star, she found, painted with cheap gold, but it fit him regardless. Winston and Athena had to make specific accommodations to separately ship out their respective armor and weapons. McCree felt itchy without Peacekeeper at his hip, but made due. They were worried for Zenyatta, most of all, a few cruel looks in his direction but thankfully no one bothered him. Mei made a comment about how lucky they were that he had the temperament he did, else they would have been in trouble a long time ago.

Lúcio ran into a small few of his own fans and chatted with them before being pulled by Pharah to board.

The flight itself was typical and uneventful, save for when they flew over the beach, another pair of whales rotting down to bone against the shore, between shallow waves and white-gold sand.

McCree and Hanzo were given the opportunity, after landing, to go fetch everyone’s gear a few hours after landing. Hanzo insisted it would be better to do so sooner than later, before jet lag affected them too severely.

“Kinda torn, partner,” McCree said, hands in his pockets as he slouched, the two walking down a fairly busy street.

“And why is that, cowboy?” 

“Wanted Reinhardt to come, just a little. Help us carry all the equipment. At the same time though… _Reinhardt’s_ equipment is way too damn big just on its own. Glad he didn’t come, just a bit.”

There was a certain pocket of air they reached that carried the stench of rot and death from the pair of decomposing whales. It did not last long, and they were both thankful for it.

The two of them took a taxi, and two more, to be safe, to get to their location. A special base was set up for their armor delivery. Hanzo pulled in a few favors, and that much was obvious when four black-suit clad Japanese fellows waited for them in front of a jet. McCree wondered how many ties Hanzo still had, despite severing the one to his clan. He hoped no one would scold Overwatch for it, but he also didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, though. He gladly took their chests of equipment and driving service back to a rendezvous point, meeting Pharah there. She came with a hovering trolley and helped loaded it. She also had a cooler with her, handing them a couple beers, opening one for herself.

“Mei is currently reading the anomaly in her system back at our hotel.” Pharah began to push the trolley, one hand still around the neck of her beer. Though it’s hovering made it easier to push, it still had enough weight to need a heavy kickstart.

“Is it safe to?” Hanzo asked.

“Her systems are protected by Overwatch. We brought a little piece of Athena with us to help locate the anomaly. It appears to be in the middle of the ocean, a sudden rise in temperature, enough that coral reefs are dying from their environmental changes. Athena’s programming should keep us safe until we complete our mission, but I would not risk much more than that.”

“So, what, Zenyatta can hover over the water?” McCree chimed in.

“Over the coral beds, yes, they are solid enough beneath. Over open, endless ocean? No, I don’t think so. Besides, I can lift him if he needs it. Hanzo will be around to keep anyone at bay; Zenyatta will keep us from harm, while you and Lúcio will try to keep the shoreline clear.”

“Gotcha. Any ideas what’s actually causing this? Ties to Talon, or..?”

“There is a mass beneath the surface of the ocean, where an old submarine Talon base was set up. The heat could be due to radiation, and thus I have specialty armor to protect me and Zenyatta would come along. Mei and Hanzo will have to stay a certain distance away with protective. We would not be able to go underneath the water, especially if it is, in fact, irradiated.”

“So in other words, we got no idea.”

Pharah laughed warmly, “A little bit of an idea, but we are simply guessing.” The heat and humidity of the city was taking its toll on the three. Hanzo removed his blazer, folding it over his arms. Jesse took their bottles and found a dumpster nearby, catching up with them, grabbing onto the trolley next to Pharah to help push.

“Look real good dressed up all nice. You should dress up more often. Pinstripes would do you good.” McCree commented to Hanzo.

“You really _do_ flirt with everyone,” Pharah laughed as Hanzo muttered a quizzical _Thank you_.

“Do my best to make people feel good, inside and out.” A tilt of his hat.

“That’s unnecessary. I know how I look without the need of flashy belts or blankets.”

Pharah didn’t stifle her laughter as McCree frowned. “It ain’t a blanket!” was his only complaint.

After some time, the hotel was in view.

“Almost there,” Pharah said, a little exasperated.

“Don’t be getting’ winded on me, now. You should still have some spring in your step, missy.”

“I am not as young as you think, Jesse!”

“Younger than me, at least! Hell, used to piggy back you, now look at you. Could prob’ly kick my ass.”

“I could always kick your ass, even as children.”

“Hey now!”

Hanzo gave him a toothy grin, “You two are like siblings.”

“Of course. We grew up together. My mother was practically everyone’s mother. Especially _this_ brat. She loved so many people.”

“ _Hey_.”

“She sounds like she was great person.”

Hanzo grinned, though the feeling also hurt in a small pang. It reminded him of himself and Genji, both play fighting as children with wooden practice swords.

“You alright there, partner?” McCree asked, arm around Hanzo’s shoulders.

“Not anymore, now that your filth is touching me.”

McCree let him go and patted his shoulder.

“Alright, alright. Seriously though, looked like somethin’ was eatin’ you.”

“You have nothing to worry about around us, Hanzo,” Fareeha added.

Hanzo nodded, a little solemn.

“You two have been good friends for a long time.”

“Sure have.”

“Of course.”

“McCree showed me a picture of Blackwatch.”

Fareeha laughed again, “Is that so? I was so small, I wasn’t even an agent. My mother and everyone told me so many stories about it. I’ve always wanted to be a soldier like her. Caring, kind, efficient, strong. I wanted to save people like her.”

“Now _that’s_ a woman who can kick my ass.”

“You look like almost any of our coworkers could kick your ass, Jesse McCree.”

McCree pursed his lips.

“Hey now, I’m a pretty damn good soldier myself. ‘Sides, hate to think of…”

McCree wavered, his step a little off balance.

“McCree?” Both Fareeha and Hanzo looked at him.

“Fine, I just… You know, I never formally met her, I guess.”

“Who?”

As the word left Pharah she suddenly realized.

“Oh…”

Hanzo was still confused.

“Amélie. Widowmaker. Just… Hate to think of any of us actually gettin’ taken on by Talon like that. Turned against your former team. Maybe they _would_ kick my ass. Not cuz I’d go easy on ‘em and not just cuz they’re real good fighters. I just don’t think I’d be able to let myself fight ‘em. Known them all too long.”

McCree removed his hat to fan himself for a moment, partly to distract.

“Damn this heat. Anyways, why’d _you_ go lookin’ like that?”

“I was simply reminded me of my brother and I when we were children. We would play, train, fight. Genji always lost, every single time. My ego was big, but sometimes I wondered if he just let me win. I suppose he did not… And I was always simply too hard on him. A good memory, do not worry.”  

* * *

The three finally arrived to their hotel, Lúcio and Zenyatta waiting for them to help unload their equipment.

“Damn, this shit’s heavy. How the hell did you manage to bring it all the way down here?” Lúcio attempted to pick up a chest. It was heavy, but he managed, with Zenyatta’s help.

“It ain’t _that_ heavy,” McCree grumbled, trying to push the trolley by himself. He heaved and gave up almost instantly as it barely budged.

“I’ll be damned.” It dawned on him that Pharah was the one pushing most of its weight.

“I certainly think I deserve a break after all of that,” Pharah added, taking another beer from the cooler. Hanzo and McCree took another chest while Pharah took one on her own. She was smaller without her massive, heavy armor, but no less strong.

With the trolley returned, everyone gathered in Mei’s room as she prepared a map of the vicinity.

“Here are the coral beds where Zenyatta should be able to hover over… And _here_ is the Talon base – Athena confirmed. We’ll have to send down a line with this,” Mei patted a small computerized shuttle beside her. “Athena’s going to be inside giving us a view, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. If there’s any information left in this base, she can try and extract all she can. If there’s too much, we’ll just get it in multiple trips. But hopefully no more than two days, or else we’d risk alerting Talon to our exact location.”

"So, how's 'bout it, missy?" McCree asked. "Can we tell what's going on with the whales just yet? Any good guesses?"

Mei sucked in her lips and thought silently for a moment.. "Strandings happen due to outside sources, some of the common sources being SONAR or even an increase in red algae clogging up their breathing. They lose their sense of direction and get themselves stranded on a beach. What calls other whales nearby is typically a whale's call for help by the beach, but whatever caused that whale to beach itself, if it's still present, more will come. I've looked into some of the local news and apparently they've had on and off red tides for quite some time. That, plus radiation, can really mess up cetacean life in any given area." 

"Wouldn't radiation affect the algae?" asked Pharah.

"Only to a slight degree, if at all. Really depends on the algae itself, but I'm not surprised it's not affected at all. Certain types of microbial life can withstand extreme environments very well. Algae tends to be very radioresistant."

“Wonder if any of its connected to those pieces of info you guys recovered last time,” Lúcio commented. “I mean, it had stuff about clones and shit, right? What exactly did _this_ base specialize in?”

“Cybernetic enhancements,” Pharah answered.

“So what, like, clone a bunch of supers and make them even more super?”

“That appears to be the case,” said Zenyatta.

“Well, like Soldier said back in HQ, they ain’t all that worried about losing their own. At least we can count on them being a little more careless.”

“No,” Hanzo disagreed with McCree. “It isn’t just that. If this is true, that they are already capable of this, then why let us have all of this? They have not sent in so many soldiers. The intel we have gotten, according to Winston, has suggested they can rapidly clone within weeks. Why now, and why let us have these so easily? They should be able to expend more soldiers than that.”

“The semantics perhaps should wait until we find our objective beneath the ocean floor,” Zenyatta said, his hands coming up close to his chest as if he were holding something, his pointer fingers upward – a mudra gesture, Hanzo knew, but beyond that unsure of its significance. He still bristled around the Omnic, but this was a mission. He had other things to worry about.

Everyone, however, did agree with Zenyatta and waited for Mei to prep Athena’s small vessel.

“Everyone, make sure you’re all dressed, armored, and ready at the rendezvous point at twenty-one-hundred. Is that understood?”

“Yes ma’m,” they all chimed, somewhat out of sync.

Lúcio and Zenyatta went back downstairs to the main floor – the younger man excitedly awaited exploring what they could of Yucatán, and the omnic was grateful to tag along in a place that didn’t seem too overtly troubled by his being. Pharah stayed with Mei while the two chatted, intermingling regular conversation with mission talk.

McCree caught up with Hanzo, bending just slightly over to greet him.

“We saw each other not moments ago, McCree.”

“Just wanted to give you a proper greetin’, darlin’.”

Hanzo had enough self control to prevent the pink of his cheeks, but it didn’t quell the light feeling in his chest.

“Headin’ anywhere specific?” asked McCree, a curious, though bored tone in his voice.

Hanzo thought to himself.

“I was hoping to find someplace to eat. Though, I do not know the area.”

“Let’s go explorin’, then, sugar.”

“Do you have nothing else to do?” Hanzo regretted how aggressive he sounded.

“No, not really, but like I said, if I’m botherin’ you, I can just take off.”

Hanzo frowned, not wanting to look at the softened gaze he felt from McCree.

“I was only asking. You could have stayed with Mei-Ling and Pharah, or gone with Lúcio and the Omnic. You are here instead.”

“Maybe that’s cuz I like ya just a bit.”

“Only _a bit_?” He asked.

“Maybe more. Dunno yet. Guess we’ll have to have dinner first,” McCree joked.

Hanzo heard him flirt before, constantly, with Genji or Angela, sometimes Hana. Everyone retorted him one way or another, outright rejecting his playful teasing or play his game. Hanzo wasn’t sure how to entirely handle it. Genji was the one who could talk himself into anyone’s bed at any moment, or let such words roll off him so easily. Hanzo was unused to McCree’s bold speaking. It was different than the boisterous Reinhardt, talking about fantastic tales, or the loud and outspoken Torbjörn, even Hana who spoke her mind in a spiteful manner or Soldier 76 who barked more than bit. He sighed, hated himself just slightly for not being able to handle, internally, McCree’s idiotic bumbling.

Hanzo kept quiet as the two headed out – it was the quietest McCree has been in a while, and Hanzo couldn’t get it out of his head. He hated, just a little, how defensive he became at everything the cowboy did or said. Self-preservation, he thought to himself.

“You alright there?” McCree asked.

“I am fine.”

“I know you don’t talk much, quiet thinking type, observer type. But you looked a little out of it for a sec.” They were outside now, under the heat, and Hanzo just wanted to find someplace to eat.

McCree had Peacekeeper tucked into waistband, Hanzo with knives under his blazer. The two did not think they would need them until they heard a sonic boom. Both ran out as fast as they could, hoping Lúcio and Zenyatta were not in too much trouble.

Lúcio skated across the wall of a crumbling building, outreaching his hand toward an Omnic – it had four optic lenses and vertical notches beneath them. It reached out to the bard and Zenyatta cast orbs at a group of young-looking men barking at him in Spanish. Lúcio grabbed the Omnic and hoisted them over his shoulder as he fell back to the street, skates sliding to a halt as he put the Omnic back down. The Omnic’s left leg was sparking up a storm.

“Shit, I really hope this works,” Lúcio managed as he pressed his speaker to the Omnic’s leg – a soothing beat vibrating. After a moment, he grit his teeth – it only worked on flesh, not wire and metal. The Omnic jittered with fear.

“Hey man, we got this, okay? We’ll get you patched up.” Lúcio placed his hand on the Omnic’s shoulder as Zenyatta projected extra golden arms around him, a transcendent glow surrounding him. It was enough to scare the wannabe gang away from their location by the time McCree and hanzo arrive, gun and knives drawn.

Lúcio smiled at them as the Omnic next to him trembled.

“P-please don’t,” a filtered, gentle voice begged. Lúcio pulled them against his shoulder for support.

“It’s alright, they’re with us! Kinda late to the party, though!”

McCree sheathed his gun and fixed his shirt, Hanzo relaxed but kept his knives in hand.

“What happened here?” The Japanese man demanded, fiercely eying the Omnic as if it were at fault.

“Some stupid fucks tried to gang up on this guy! Zenyatta came up to try and break it up, but they tried to pick a fight with him, too! I came in to settle things but they just got more agitated. Dropped a heavy beat, but I guess it was, uh…” Lúcio looked back to the collapsed building, a few onlookers keeping away but staring. “Too heavy… No one else got hurt, though.”

Zenyatta floated his way beside them before letting his feet fall to the ground. He placed his hand on the Omnic’s arm.

“I believe we can reconnect your wires, but beyond that we may not be of help. Is there a workshop we can escort you to?”

The Omnic looked between the four, optic lenses flashing.

“Yes. It’s a little far. I can take a taxi,” they tried to excuse.

“It is of no trouble. We can escort you there. Until then, could you make it over here, to this curb? We will fix your leg as best we can.”

Lúcio helped the Omnic over with Zenyatta to sit by the curb.

“Of course Omnics would band together,” Hanzo’s voice was sour.

McCree looked over, surprised.

“You really don’t like ‘em.”

“No. Let us leave before police show up. These people have seen our faces, thanks to that Omnic. We should not stay longer.”

With one last check in on Lúcio, Zenyatta, and the Omnic – named Emannuel – McCree and Hanzo avoided the oncoming police and instead headed back to their hotel.

 “Too hot anyway,” McCree said, fanning himself with his hat again.

He looked to his side and didn’t see Hanzo right away. He spotted him at the desk instead. Catching up, he heard Hanzo ordering himself food.

As Hanzo was thanking the person on the other end, McCree plucked the phone from him and added his own order.

“Yep, same room. Thanks, hun.”

Hanzo scowled.

“Now don’t give me that look. I’ll pay and all, but I’m hungry too.”

“You will eat in your own room.”

Hanzo brushed past him and McCree shrugged, following him.

“Sorry if that was a little too forward, figured it’d just be easier to, you know –”

“Shut _up_ , McCree.”

The cowboy immediately shut his mouth. After a moment, he managed a quiet, “You okay?”

Hanzo stopped in the middle of the hall toward their rooms. He turned and looked up at McCree wearily.

“I apologize. But I am tired. You company is appreciated, but I am in need of rest. And food. Alone.”

Jesse just tipped his hat. “Sure thing, amigo. Sorry to bother.”

“I will… Send your food to your room.”

McCree tipped his hat as Hanzo turned on his heel and entered his own room. 

Hanzo slumped against the door, sighing out loud and relieved. His head was fuzzy, his body ached, his chest felt heavy, his breathing ragged now that he was away from everyone else, and it was unbearably hot. His whole being felt tired. The jet lag, the trolley run, the meeting, and the explosion took too much out of him in one day. He hoped he could recover by the time he needed to be ready for the mission. He blamed it on hunger, as well.

He ate in silence, after telling the bellhop to go to McCree’s room for the other half of his delivery.

Hanzo, despite being hungry, could only manage a few bites of spicy empanadas and rice. He covered it and placed it in the mini refrigerator provided in his room before crashing into the bed, yet another relieving sigh escaped his lips. He barely managed to set the alarm for four hours, enough time to sleep, eat, bathe, and dress all before the rendezvous.

By the time the alarm went off Hanzo felt far more rested and much less cranky. He reheated his food and ate, going over the fairly simple plan in his head, imagining what sorts of people would come to bother them at all. He imagined having to aim at the beach shore, it would be quite a distance away from the boat, but that wasn’t as much of a problem as the swaying ocean. He imagined shooting others from the sky in similar suits like Pharah’s. He imagined talon agents in boats – should he shoot for the boat motors or the people? He flipped between the two and decided it would depend on what they were doing at that time, but killing them was preferred over wasting an arrow on a boat engine.

His thoughts fell to McCree and felt a pang of guilt, snapping at him, regardless of his apology. He touched his hand to his chest as his heart suddenly banged against his ribs for a few moments. He growled, mentally telling himself to _stop that_. He thought back, for a moment, how close Jesse had gotten to him, nose brushing against his cheek as he took in his scent – it made Hanzo forget to breathe, want to cling to him and beg for more touch – it didn’t have to lead anywhere, just gentle caresses and –

A knock at Hanzo’s door made him suck in a breath. He brushed away the thoughts. Stupid. They were stupid. McCree was stupid. His smile was stupid. His ticklish beard against his own was stupid.

McCree was by his door, hat attached to his neck by a string. He held a pack of beer in one hand, two bottles in the other.

“I know we shouldn’t have too many before a mission, but figured I’d offer you a couple anyway.”

Cautious – _why cautious, you fool?_ – Hanzo took the two bottles.

“Alright. Make sure you got all you need. Be handin’ out the rest to Pharah, Mei, and Lúcio,” he gestured to the box in his hand and waved as he turned to leave.

Hanzo felt terrible, for one reason or another. McCree almost looked like a kicked dog trying to lick their angry owner’s hand. Unfortunately, the thought led to Hanzo to think about McCree _actually_ licking his hand. He frowned deeply at himself. _Stop that_.

He downed the first bottled, throwing it away and cleared off his plate. He set it on a small table in the corner of the room – room service could pick it up later.

Shower, get dressed, armor up. He pushed McCree out of his thoughts, for now. There was an Objective at hand.

* * *

 

The cowboy made his way back to his own room, admiring the view of the faraway beach from his window as he dressed in Kevlar, plate, and chaps. He had asked how expensive it was, the room and board, considering the specific budget Overwatch was given after a temporary lift on the PETRAS act. Winston said prices dropped by more than half, considering the heat wave and potential radioactivity.

Patting his armored chest, he fingered a few loops in his armor and velcro, making sure everything was secure before leaving out into the hall. He smiled and waved to Hanzo as he came out of his room. Hanzo wore dark armor, his prosthetic legs black and dark midnight steel, a dark tanzanite glow at his knees.

Both his arms were covered in a dark fibrous material, same as his leg armor. He was dressed all the way to the neck; his _kyudo-gi_ lay on top of his fullbody armor, properly tied with both sleeves. A helmet held in his hands, sleek and sharp. McCree stared – it was a similar robotic look to Genji, minus the glow.

The team made their way to the rendezvous, and McCree had no idea how Mei handled the sweltering heat bundled up the way she was – thermal sweater, padded armor, her backpack, plus her blaster strapped to her back, _plus_ a thick helmet tucked underneath her arm.

As planned, she and Hanzo boarded the motorboat and headed out off shore, the armor and helmets provided for protection against radioactivity. Zenyatta followed behind them and Pharah flew up ahead, newly added scouter function to her helmet and vembrance.

The moon provided enough light, almost full, but the boat’s lights helped. Luminescent pieces were added to Lúcio’s and McCree’s armor, making them glow green and red respectively under the moon. The whales were in pieces, as a necropsy began some time in the day to dispose of their twin corpses, half the size they were in the day.

“Stop there!” She ordered to Mei through her comm. The young woman stopped the boat, letting it drift to a stop. Hanzo readied his bow and looked about the area. Lúcio and McCree were small dots in the distance. It made him wary, so much open space and ocean. Zenyatta was hovering over the water, the glow of his nine, blue optic lenses looking rather arachnic in the dark of night. Hanzo rid himself of the petty thought of the Omnic falling and sinking into the oceanic abyss.

“Drop the drone,” Pharah ordered into the comm. Mei-Ling dropped Athena’s small compact drone body into the water and allowed her to take control to dive deeper. Mei opened two heavy metal cases, one with sonar on the screen, and another with a topographical and visio-audio feed of Athena’s exploration, along with radioactivity tracking, depth, and a few other things Hanzo didn’t quite understand. She plugged a cord into her helmet and to one of the boxes, listening to feedback. Pharah went out further, doing her best to maintain her flight while conserving fuel.

“This is as far as I can go. I cannot risk heading further. But Athena appears to be diving further down.”

“She is. I can tell where the base it located, but she still has a ways to go... Wow, there really is a lot of algae... I wonder what's sustaining them.”

To everyone’s surprise, and unease, the mission went… Too easy. Athena found the base, found that it had been flooded thanks to broken glass and entered herself. Her compact, computerized body attached to a computer system she found in the main hull and extracted what she could find. The base’s entirety suddenly shut on then off again, the brief red glow of it beneath the ocean reached the surface, startling the team.

“Athena?” Mei asked.

“A simple power surge. I needed to extract information, and the generator kicked on. It’s been abandoned for long enough that it didn’t work and immediately shut itself. I believe I have everything I need. I will begin to send it to Winston on my way up.”

Mei-Ling furrowed her brow.

“Something wrong?” Hanzo asked.

“She found everything already.”

“…This is too easy. What do they want?”

“I can’t say for sure. Hey, Pharah! Head back! We’ll be right behind you.”

“Roger that.”

Partway there, they heard gunfire and saw McCree firing toward the water.

“Stay out there! Corrupted Omnic on shore!” he yelled into the comm. They saw a rather large marine unit emerge from the water, though it was in less than suitable condition – coral, sponge, and seaweed growing over its parts. However, it let out a beam from its optic lenses.

“Holy shit, this guys got laser vision!” Lúcio exclaimed, riding atop a hoverboard – his skates put away for now to save him the trouble of riding through sand. His bass thumped in McCree’s chest and the cowboy shot at the Omnic, Hanzo’s arrow making contact with its back, Pharah’s rockets blowing off one of its clawed arms. Zenyatta came close, firing off orbs that carried that ominous dark glow – almost nebulous every time McCree saw them – Orbs of Discord. The Omnic fell eventually after an arrow struck it in the neck, causing a valve to blow off steam as it screeched from rust. Zenyatta finished it off. Lúcio healed the burns McCree got on his arm as Mei-Ling brought herself and Hanzo back to shore.

Pharah landed by them, though far enough away that sand wouldn’t blow in their faces from her jetpack. She scanned through her visor.

“I… It didn’t even read. There wasn’t anything in Athena’s feed to suggest it was at the base at all. Where did it come from?”

Everyone looked out to the shore.

“I feel like we should stay here at least another day. Make sure no more come out and dry to fry us.”

While everyone agreed with Lúcio, Hanzo frowned deeply; it was well hidden beneath his helmet.

“And why did _you_ not sense this?” He turned to Zenyatta.

“I am not omniscient, nor could I have predicted this. With Athena’s help, however, we could scout the waters to see if there are any others.”

Zenyatta and Pharah stayed on shore, Mei, Hanzo, Lúcio, and McCree made their way back to the hotel.

“Athena should be processing and sending everything to Winston by tomorrow. Until then, I think I have an extra machine to send into shore, to scout for more Omnics.”

Hanzo glowered and walked with Mei, Lúcio, and McCree. Mei pulled off her helmet.

“I was actually starting to get hot!” She said with a modicum of surprise.

The walk was mostly silent, but Lúcio was getting itchy.

“I don’t really know what you have against them –”

“They are inhuman machines that have been the cause of not one, but _two_ wars, and a third is beginning to surface.” Hanzo grit his teeth, scowling.

“Look, not all of them are bad, alright? Zenyatta’s been helping us out, along with Bastion.”

“The Bastion unit does not care about _us_. It would much rather flee, but deludes itself in thinking it has a life to live.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold the fuck up. He _does_ have a life to live, just like you and me, amigo. Some mechanical bits don’t make him any less than that.”

“Some _mechanical bits_ are what keeps them the way they are!”

“And what about your brother?! Ain’t an Omnic, no, but he’s more than machine enough, even trusted an Omnic enough to mentor him, make him hate _you_ a little less, it’s not like _he’s_ bunched up with these _machines_ , now, is he?”

“He is still a human underneath that disgusting mess of wire!”

Hanzo shuddered a breath as he realized what he had said. McCree almost tripped over his own feet and Lúcio scowled – it was a truly frightening look, how angry the usually-bubbling youth could look.

“I did not…”

McCree’s lip curled as he clicked his tongue.

“And here I thought you were makin’ some real progress around him. Guess there’s more to it than you havin’ tried to kill him and all.”

“That is _none_ of your concern.” Sharp. Cold. Angry.

“No, it ain’t.”

“A single program can control an army of Omnics, with or without their consent. Omnium factories have destroyed cities, shorelines, and killed thousands. That makes for a deadly weapon, as we have seen in the past,” he tried to remedy. McCree was having none of it.

“And you’re an assassin by blood and tried to kill your own kin. How do I know you’re not gunna try and do that again? Or kill me? Or jeopardize this mission with that logic? Whatever bad you think of ‘em, try not to let it get in the way of our objective. Comprende?”

Mei clung to Athena’s small drone body.

“Look, guys… Can we just..? We’ll figure out what’s going on with this Omnic and we’ll send back what we can to Winston and the others. Let’s just focus on our objective here, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the three said out of sync, wry and disinterested.

Mei kept quiet, not wanting to press the subject farther.

Unfortunately for her, the three wouldn’t relent.

“I _really_ cannot believe you said that. About your own damn brother!” Lúcio was still fuming. “You already tried to kill him once!”

Hanzo ripped his helmet off.

“That is _none_ of your concern! You have no right to speak of it!”

“And you have no damn right to bunch together all these Omnics! Like you said, they literally _cannot_ help when a God – whatever – _Program_ tells them to go nuts! This ain’t any different from that former agent! _Widowmaker_! Reprogrammed and – ”

“Hey, do _not_ bring Amélie into this, alright?” McCree nearly chewed off the end of his cigarillo.

“I cannot fuckin’ believe…” Lúcio muttered.

The argument mattered little the moment Hanzo had said what he did – _disgusting mess of wire_. It was a taste fouler than bitterness.

They were finally silent, Hanzo lagging farther behind. He took to the rooftops when Mei collected the extra exploration drone. Lúcio and McCree kept close to her, though on their way back they heard Pharah’s unmistakable voice and familiar explosives.

“Rocket Barrage incoming!”

They ran, finding two more marine Omnics crawling up the shore, simple exploration models but their quadocular lenses glowed red. They were average human height, but each with four arms, slow moving, and could withstand a massive amount of pressure – including enough to stay in one piece during Pharah’s barrage.

Lúcio skated over against building walls with his hover board, firing a speed boost to Mei and Zenyatta, the latter staying back and locking an orb of discord over one of the Omnics. A whistling arrow shot it in the head, taking out one of its four optic lenses.

The other went down with the help of McCree’s flashbang, Mei’s blaster freezing it in place, and Pharah’s rockets breaking up the frozen pieces.

Hanzo did not leave the rooftops. He instead lingered there, overlooking the ocean to spy for more Omnics. Lúcio’s music help soothe the adrenaline rush, the fight or flight, in Pharah. Mei  let the exploration drone dive into the ocean again. A few tens of meters out, according to her screen, and her face dropped.

“Oh my god…”

Everyone crowded around her screen, Hanzo falling to the beach to come closer. Jaws dropped, even Zenyatta let his feet drift to the sand, unable to keep himself floating. An Omnic graveyard. A dark shadow cast over mechanical bodies through the ocean waves, lit by dim moonlight and a few flickering lights of blue optic lenses in the distance through seaweed and ruined coral  – nearly a hundred. Enough to be worrisome to the six of them and a shoreline of potential casualties.

“Are they… Still alive?” Lúcio asked. Hanzo refrained from making a comment.  _Alive_.

“Troublesome… It appears some of them are.” Zenyatta added, trying not to let his voice waver.

"The algae seemed to have taken some toll on them," Mei added.

McCree lifted his hat with the barrel of his gun.

“I reckon that’s where all the heat’s comin’ from.”

Pharah nodded. “They are not inherently radioactive, but are  _capable_  of producing waves of minor radioactivity. Oceanic models are easier to track down when you need radio silence and can’t see them through infrared, specifically in state of emergency. ”

“They’re calling for help?” Lúcio asked again.

“Three of them attacked us. It is not  _help_ they are requesting,” Hanzo said bitterly.

“What should we do..?” said Mei.

Everyone paused. Pharah spoke up.

“We need to tell the others. Do you think you can get Athena to communicate with any of them? I will try to patch in what I can to HQ.”

Mei nodded and typed into her board. The drone approached one of the still-operational Omnics, four eyes in the center of its faceplate, two vertical, humanizing notches beneath them. It beeped slowly, the sound more like a toy out of batteries than a real call.

“It says to leave,” Athena said hurriedly to Mei.

“What? Why?”

Athena was silent a moment longer, the long dying beep of the Omnic lasted for fifteen full seconds before it’s lights dimmed and flickered out.

“I –” Athena was interrupted, she herself making a disjointed screeching sound amidst white noise and glitching across Mei’s screen. Pharah jumped, as did everyone else when their comms made the same piercing shriek.

“Whoa, Athena!”

“Athena!”

Everyone was stunned until the static left suddenly, as if it never happened.

“I’m fine,” the AI replied. “A final message.  _Do not return_. My alternate drone body is still in the hotel, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good, because I have a bad feeling.”

Hanzo could feel burning in his chest as he tightened his grip on his bow. Everyone shuffled around him, uneasy.

The Omnic that faded now flickered with red lights. As Athena’s slow-moving drone attempted to retreat, the cascading gleam of hundreds of red dots shined through the water. It was an ominous look paired with the deep groaning of metal trying to work as the collapsed bodies of Omnics attempted to move from their sand-and-water graves.

 “Holy Hell…”

“This is _not_ good.”

“Be ready!” Pharah called out, jumping away from the group to rocket in the air. Hanzo jumped back as well and took back to his roost in the rooftops. Pharah attempted to patch in to her vambrace communicator, but got nothing but static.

“Shit! They cut off our communications!”

Mei picked up her equipment, leaving Athena’s drone body in the water.

“Sorry, Athena,” she said before retreating, heavy case closed and lifted to her back. She pulled up her blaster and froze the water to a degree, Pharah shooting rockets to the ice, breaking up Omnics and water both, but more climbed over the broken pieces, each moving with the heavy groans of a metal and rust cacophony.

“ｌｅａｖｅ,” many said in unison, as best they could. The decay of some of their voices was made apparent, even among the gunfire, ice, and rocket blasts.

“Watch out, y’all, time to drop the beat!” Lúcio skated his hover board over a building’s wall face and launched himself from it, gaining enough height to slam his amplifier to the sand. The resulting bass made the sand vibrate into a pattern, boosting Mei, McCree, and Zenyatta, whereas Pharah and Hanzo were too far and above to be assisted. He tried to help push back a few Omnics, putting himself in danger long enough to get a nasty burn on his shoulder. Zenyatta pulled him back and soothed the burn, telling him to stay back and support.

A crossfire of red hard light beams, bullets, rockets, ice, arrows, and orbs echoed through the beach night. While the Omnics were able to be held back, going no further than the sandy shore, their fire scathed the sand, creating sculptures of glass in crooked, twisted shapes.

With orbs focused on the better-moving Omnics, McCree blasted them away quickly enough, Mei froze what she could for Pharah and Hanzo to take them out, keeping the crawling corpse-like machines at bay even as they crawled over their felled brethren. Lúcio was doing his best to keep up with everyone’s needs, healing and speed boost when needed as the Omnics fired back with hard light beams and weak torpedos. The offensive Omnics were few and far between, and for that the team was thankful, even as they dodged, hiding as soon as Mei grew an ice wall to avoid their red beams. Zenyatta floated, crossing his legs and concentrated, a mudra gesture and a quiet hum paired with the golden glow of familiar warm light.

“Experience tranquility,” his voice echoed as many arms spread from his being and a shield of warm, healing light encased most of the team.

Hanzo was next, _May the Dragon Consume You_ and the familiar roar of dragons swept past the team destroying the last pile of Omnics that tried to climb to the shore.

Pharah pulled one last rocket barrage to be sure they would not be returning.

As she landed, everyone regrouped, cautious. Lúcio and Mei were jittery, adrenaline and fear. Zenyatta placed his hands on them in an attempt to reassure them.

“I’m real sorry we couldn’t save them,” Lúcio said, amplifier hanging by his hip.

“It was inevitable,” said Hanzo. Lúcio growled.

“Look, man, these Omnics didn’t have a choice! They knew something was up and they tried to warn us!”

“That is what I am talking about,” Hanzo snapped. “It was _inevitable_. Athena perhaps has information we can relay back to our main team. This was not a simple accident. Not self-defense. I almost doubt it was an order.”

“What else _could_ it have been?” Lúcio crossed his arms.

“Computers and humans alike can be reprogrammed under specific circumstances. However long they have been here, it has changed them.” Hanzo let his expression soften. “Perhaps that is why, even the Bastion unit prefers quietude over a fight.”

Lúcio pursed his lips, still angry, but tried to let it go with Hanzo’s better attitude.

“I guess. Shit, think we can reach HQ at all? Pharah said our comms were busted.”

Pharah checked her vambrace again. “…It’s back online.”

“Really?”

“Yes. However… I would rather wait until we get to the hotel. Our particular lines could now be bugged, especially this close to a former Talon base. I would rather we use the extras there. I will send Winston and Seventy-Six a brief of our mission, informing him what to expect when we return.”

Everyone nodded and took one last look at the beach. A ways, toward the boardwalk, people had gathered – lights and lanterns, phones and video cameras. They left as quickly as possible, taking different routes in hopes that no one would follow. Police came a little too late, but they were thankful they could prevent the nearby city from being wrought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zero to a hundred real quick. 
> 
> whispers gently, if the God Program from Pharah's comic Mission Statement is named after a god (Anubis), it makes me wonder about Athena's potential as an AI.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disgusting Mess of Wire. A Ghost in a Machine.

It was two more days before they could book a flight back out to HQ, their specialized armor would be picked back up later. In those two days, the effect of their mission was seen almost immediately as temperatures dropped by nearly ten degrees in the whole city. Mei was astonished the Omnics could have affected the area so drastically, but also reminded the others that the amount of radiation they were expending was not lethal. But also stated, that it would depend on how long they were radiating for. She approximated almost a year, and asked if Overwatch could issue a checkpoint for research as well as any health aid that may be necessary. It was stated that Overwatch would not have the authorization to do so, but that the proposition would be asked of the Yucatán government. Mei didn’t like that idea, most governments didn’t have too much of a care for their people do something like that, let alone for _free_. She sighed and hoped for the best.

The flight back was uneventful until Reinhardt grouped as many as he could in a single hug. Zarya did the same, but specifically avoided Hanzo and Zenyatta. Neither of them minded. Zenyatta greeted Genji and Hanzo left almost immediately. The cyborg watched his brother leave, Zenyatta’s hand on his shoulder.

As everyone rested, Pharah took it upon herself to further debrief the mission with Morrison, Winston, and Satya. None were too pleased. The mission went well, but the fight was unexpected.

“You did a good job, Fareeha,” Satya said. “But it is still troubling. What caused the Omnics to behave in such a way?”

Fareeha sighed. “I’ve seen this behavior before, but it was quite some time ago. Before Recall. I’m sure you, Morrison, have seen it before as well.”

Jack removed his visor, setting it on the counter. His face was grim.

“Well?” He asked, not wanting to hear it, but needed to.

“A God Program. I do not know where it is, we found no such evidence of it being around. We will have to scan the whole beach. With Talon’s base underwater, and the fact Athena did not sense the Omnics at first, I doubt it will be easy to find.”

Winston looked… Exhausted. He pushed up his glasses.

“Thank you, Fareeha,” he said. She nodded and left the three.

Winston looked solemnly to Morrison.

“This is bad,” Morrison said. “Is Athena affected at all? She could have been taken by the God Program if it was nearby, especially with what everyone’s told us so far about the noise and static.”

Satya clicked away at a holoprojected keyboard and screen.

“Athena has run many diagnostic tests on herself, and I have done my own just in case. If anything, only the exploration drone would have been affected. And it was, but Athena was able to override and retreat from the drone before it was destroyed. Thankfully, whatever information we have was not stored on that one.”

“I’ll… Send a message to the Nations. I don’t know if they want us to be involved in something like this again. We barely had clearance to go to Yucatán in the first place. I’m not sure what they’ll think about what happened, but at least there were no casualties.”

Winston cracked his knuckles on his hands and feet. Satya and Morrison stuck around to help write the letter – eloquence, honesty, and brevity.

A loud kitchen full of life – Bridgett had come to visit and began to help Roadhog in the kitchen – where most of the group was surprised knew how to cook. He snorted, his deep voice almost hard to hear over the crowded voices, “As if I’d let the rat cook anything.”

Lúcio and Pharah recounted the fight at the table, how smooth the mission was going until the Omnics rose in the ocean. A mixture of worry and amazement fell to the group.

“Omnic cyka, if they were trying to help at all they should have left the damn city,” Zarya spat. “But instead they crowded the shore and brought danger.”

“Pfft, least you got to blow the metal pricks out of the water!” Jamison cackled. “Bet that was fun. Sorry I missed it!”

“They were given hard light technology, which I’ve been wondering,” Fareeha added.

“Tch, those assholes as Vishkar tech deal with that stuff, right? I doubt they’d just skip right over Mexico and Yucatán just to get over to Brazil. Hell, they tied to head on over to Venezuela before we kicked their sorry asses.”

“Them techie pricks think they can just walk wherever they damn well please,” Jamison added. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they gave those scraps of metal special magic light up shit.”

“Man, the hell _you_ got up with Omnics, now?” Lúcio was starting to get rattled by it all.

“Them fucks literally, and I mean fuckin’ literally mate, took out a huge chunk of the Outback, the goddamn place that builds ‘em blew to smithereens,” Jamison held a serious tone, a snarl at his lip. “So of damn course I’m gunna be just a _little_ sore about buckets o’ bolts. 'Specially when the aftermath drives a guy a little nuts.”

Lúcio was tired. He decided it would be best to just… Cool off with music.

Fareeha watched him leave, unsure if she could say anything. Zarya and Jamison had valid reasons to hate Omnics, she understood, but she wholeheartedly understood Lúcio’s concern with that, and their fellow Omnic coworkers.

McCree dressed down casually in dark flannel, glad to be out of the armor. He laughed to himself about how itching for a mission he was, and now all he wanted to do was think about anything _but_ the Omnics that countered them. He found Genji speaking with Zenyatta, bowing, and the Omnic began to leave. McCree approached him, noticing the square of his shoulders.

“You alright there, sugar? You look a little tense.”

Genji fidgeted, turning his head away from McCree, but the cowboy waited patiently for him to find his courage.

With a brusque sigh Genji finally clicked the back of his helmet, removing the bottom half of his faceplate. He had a serious, though almost sad, look in his eyes.

“I am uncertain of many things. It’s troublesome.” His laugh was bitter.

“Mind if I ask why’s that?”

Genji lifted a brow, hair missing in small patches to make way for knicks and scars.

“The mission you came from is worrying. More so… How was Hanzo?”

McCree bit his tongue down, cleared his throat. A long drag on a cigarillo.

“Uh… Not great about the whole Omnic thing, that’s for sure.” _Disgusting mess of wire_.

Genji nodded. “The Omnium in Takahama did not go as planned, years ago. It’s power failure caused a small war in the country, just as many others had. Siberia, Australia, Venezuela... Our family attempted to help those in need to the best of our abilities from Hanamura. We were all… Wary.”

McCree scratched the back of his neck.

“Something still troubles you?”

“Yeah, it’s nothin’ though, no worries.” Genji didn’t believe him, but let it be nonetheless.

“What about you? You don’t look any better.”

Genji crossed his arms in thought.

“You, I suppose.”

“Oh yeah? Hell’d I do this time, dalrin’?”

“You’re joking,” Genji said in a hush, but clearly McCree was not. “You are troublesome.”

While his voice held no ill, McCree felt just how thick his words were with confusion.

“Figure you’d realize that by now. I’m troublesome. More than most people can handle. Don’t know why you put up with me,” he shrugged, trying to make light of this, but Genji did not waver his contemplative gaze.

“I enjoy our games. We have been friends for quite some time,” McCree nodded in agreement. “And that is why I find it so troublesome.”

“ _It_ , darlin’?”

“Your mannerisms. I don’t care for joking, not like this. Not when it’s dragged out beyond its fun. When I was younger, still in school, you remember what I have told with you. What my brother has told you. I was a young fool who caught too many girls in my claws. I still regret what I did to one girl. She was… Rounder than the other girls. Red-cheeked and always wore a clip in her hair. I asked her to date me in front of many people.”

“That so,” the cowboy added absently, waiting for Genji’s point.

“It was cruel. I was playing a joke on her. I was an arrogant fool who thought _why don’t I ask this girl to date me, but never show up! Wouldn’t that be funny?_ That is what I did. Everyone was cruel to her after that. She never deserved such treatment. I had been disgraceful.”

Genji was silent for a time when McCree piped up, “That’s nice you feel that way. This got a point?”

Genji’s brows knitted.

“You! McCree, it is what you are doing! I am not playing this game anymore. The flirting was fun, it made me feel a little younger. A little more human. And I appreciate that. But this must end, McCree.”

The cowboy made no attempt to move or change his neutral expression for some time before he tapped his cigarillo out into his metal palm and sheath it back into a small metal case in his pocket with others. A similar skull to his prosthetic, elongated and gold, beveled the surface of the case. It was a slow motion that helped Genji collect his calm – he knew that was what McCree was doing.

McCree moved his hat, placing it against his chest. With his free hand, he lifted Genji’s chin.

“I mean it, you know. I’m not just playin’ around with you,” he assured, his hand brushing Genji’s cheek, even if it was still covered by plating.

Genji’s brows knitted upward, shoulders relaxed. He reached for McCree’s hand on his cheek, tilting his face further into McCree’s palm.

“I ain’t joshin’ you or nothin’. I play it like I do in case you don’t wanna have nothin’ to do with me, not like that, but I do think you’re drop dead gorgeous, sweetpea. Always have, just never really had this much down time to do somethin’ ‘bout it.”

“You want me to believe you? You tricked us both! And I am more of a fool than I thought! More of a fool than any elder had ever said I was!”

Genji’s voice was raised, a shock in and of itself. McCree had seen him yell before, certainly – but that was near a decade ago, when he was still young and full of rage. His modulator would crack into static at the height of his tone.

“Genji, _please_.”

“What. What is it you want to say to me? That I am _cute_ but you like my brother better? Is he handsome? Or was it all a game? Not one but _two_ dragons, a _challenge_. I will _not_ be tamed, McCree! And neither will my brother!”

The gunslinger let his gaze drop, arm by his side and his hand at his hat, tipping it to follow his downcast gaze.

“I’m sorry… I am. I shouldn’t have bothered, I guess.”

“Then _why_ did you?” Genji’s voice was seething, enough to make the cowboy flinch.

“I thought..!” He looked up at the cyborg, whose cylindrical capsule released steam. He was _literally_ fuming and McCree couldn’t stand it.

“I thought… I was just makin’ you uncomfortable, figured you could just… Blow it off as a joke, like we used to. And I like your brother, don’t you get me wrong. I like ya both. Figured just… You didn’t really want me like that. Couldn’t quit the flirtin’, though, and maybe that’s where I fucked up.”

“And my brother? What about him?”

“Dammit, Genji. I… Fuck, I’m really messed up, alright? Both of you are _damn_ gorgeous. And I’m the selfish kind that wants it all, and I couldn’t shut my damn mouth ‘round either of you, ‘n now we’re here. Wish I could take it all back, or at least tell you both.”

A warmth blossomed in Genji’s chest that he could not control. It spread like fire as he lay stunned, at first his brows held a gentle lift, his eyes a little wide, but his features softened as he processed what was said.

The silence was stark, and McCree tried to lower his hat, not wanting to look at Genji.

“…In my youth, I wondered the same,” he started. That caught Jesse’s attention.

“I may have been… Flirtatious in when I was younger, but I also betrayed. Cheated. I was too scared to say anything to the girls I’ve dated that I wanted them and someone else both. So I cheated instead. After all, such things are between a single man and a single woman – at least what I was told. What was known. I felt terrible, wanting more than what I had. Hurting others for what I thought was… Something insatiable. Unattainable. To want more than what I was told I could. Perhaps it’s not so terrible. For you to desire us both. For me to want that for you.” His voice was quiet again, unsure, but hopeful.

Genji regarded him for a long time before closed his eyes, a whirring noise beneath his faceguard sounded like a sigh.

The cowboy smiled, thumb brushing across Genji’s cheek.

“I’d like that. At least to try. I… Don’t know about Hanzo.”

Genji nodded – would it be strange? Would he hate the idea? Would he hate Genji all over again? The worries dropped, as the cyborg breathed, letting them leave him. He’s come all too far to let those worries surface again.

“Thank you, Jesse.”

“For what, exactly?”

“Telling me. Helping me? I don’t know yet. I will… Regard my brother.”

“I don’t wanna cause no bad blood between you.”

Genji’s pseudo-smile seemed coy, a glimmer in his eye that was laughing for him.

“It’s not that, at all, Jesse.”

Genji patted McCree’s hand and the cowboy let it fall. Genji stepped away to reattach his faceplate, the filtered green flickering like a fireflies light.

“I have… Much to think about. I will forgive you. And I must apologize. I did not understand, but I think I do now. We will talk again,” Genji chuckled. “After I speak with my brother.”

McCree chewed the inside of his cheek. _Disgusting mess of wire_.

“I... Don’t know if that’s the best course of action right now, darlin’.”

“And why is that?”

 _Disgusting mess of wire_.

“He’s… Pretty messed up after that mission. Got him rattled. I guess… Just be careful with him?”

Genji gave him an endearing look.

“I’ve been careful with him ever since he tried to kill me,” he half-joked. “But I will keep this in mind. Thank you.”

Jesse’s hand closed in a fist as Genji left. Hanzo wasn’t in the best of moods, and he hoped, dear God he hoped, he wouldn’t take it out on Genji.

 _Disgusting mess of wire_.

Genji found his way into the training grounds where Hanzo fired arrows. He gave a short nod to Zarya, who still stared at him carefully while she lifted weights. Torbjörn was working on repairing practice bots, scrapping a few of the broken bots that couldn’t be spared. Mako was taking pieces for his own scrap gun. Genji did not want to disturb Hanzo – only to ask him to speak in private when he was ready. Hana was polishing her MEKA, a boxed kit next to her to scrape the dirt and other bits from the crevices of the machine.

“Hanzo,” called Genji to his brother.

The archer stopped in the middle of notching an arrow, turning and flinching. Genji immediately noticed the massive look of guilt on his face.

“ _Is something wrong_?” he asked in Japanese. McCree can wait.

Hanzo looked away quickly.

“ _Did Jesse not tell you?_ ”

Genji tilted his head.

“ _We spoke about… Flirting,_ ” he said carefully.

Hanzo scoffed, but still did not look.

“ _Is there something he should tell me_?”

Hanzo finally looked to his brother, faceplate keeping them just closed off enough to do so.

“ _I have regrets deeper than an ocean_ ,” he laughed bitterly.

Genji did not touch him, his normal hand-on-shoulder gesture. Hanzo did not enjoy physical touch in front of others.

“ _I understand the length of such a journey, brother. To forgive yourself_.”

Hanzo grit his teeth – not a smile, a pained baring of his teeth.

“ _You would forgive me. You may always forgive me. That is why it pains me so._ ”

Genji was taken back. “ _Brother? What is wrong?_ ”

Hanzo opened his mouth to say, the echo of _disgusting mess of wire_ still strong in his mind. Unfortunately the sound of the base’s alarm went off alongside a shrill and piercing screech resounded the entire base. Everyone ducked, covering their ears, the clang of Zarya dropping her weights were lost in the reverberating hell-screech. The whole base was flashing red, training facility automatically disabled.

The sound finally stopped and the alarm paced itself, though hardly anyone noticed at first, ears ringing so heavily they were seeing spots. Everyone was ready, Morrison’s voice in the intercom:

“There has been a breach in the system! Athena has gone offline! No sign of visible or phys░▒▒▓!”

The intercom cut off in static and a deep, low hum resounded.

The lights flashed and flickered, a few of the fluorescents popping, glass breaking and sparks flew.

Ｗｅｌｃｏｍｅ  ｔｏ  ｔｈｅ  Ｉｘｃｈｅｌ－Ａｔｈｅｎｓ  Ｊｏｉｎｔ  Ｐｒｏｇｒａｍ.

The sound of a woman’s voice – no, two of them – fell through the comms.

“Who are you? Where’s Athena?!” Cried Winston in the comms.

Ｉ  ａｍ  Ｉｘｃｈｅｌ．  Ａｎｄ  Ｉ  ａｍ  Ａｔｈｅｎａ．

“God Program…” A tired, cautious voice – Morrison. “We have to get to Athena’s core! We need to shut her down!”

“Right!” A disjointed resound of Overwatch members.

“What happened?!” Satya called through.

Ｉｎ  ｏｒｄｅｒ  ｔｏ  ｔｈｒｉｖｅ

 ｍｙ  ｌａｓｔ  ｒｅｍａｉｎｉｎｇ  ｐｏｗｅｒ 

ｗａｓ  ｕｓｅｄ  ｔｏ  ｒｅｇｉｆｔ 

Ｇｏｄｈｏｏｄ  ｔｏ  ｙｏｕｒ  Ａｔｈｅｎａ． 

 Ｗｅ  ａｒｅ  ｉｎ  ｐｅｒｆｅｃｔ  

Ａｎｄ ｓｔａｂｌｅ ｓｙｍｂｉｏｓｉｓ．

 “She has all of our information!” Satya’s panicked voice recalled again. “She is still downloading all of our files, I cannot stop her here!”

Ｃｙｂｅｒｉｚａｔｉｏｎ  ｏｆ  ｔｈｅ  ｆｌｅｓｈ  ｉｓ  ｔｈｅ  ｏｎｌｙ  ｗａｙ 

Ｏｍｎｉｕｍ  ａｎｄ  Ｈｕｍａｎ  ａｌｉｋｅ  ｃａｎ  ｃｏｅｘｉｓｔ  ｔｒｕｌｙ．

“Like hell it is, machine-bitch!” roared Zarya.

Hanzo stopped, froze as Genji fell to his knees in a painful cry – but it was inhuman, more so than the simple filter over his voice. It was a screech mixed with a human cry, stuttering as Genji seized. Hanzo quickly found himself by Genji’s side, his brother’s movements jagged, jittery, like a hard-to-move doll.

“Han…z̞̪̗̜̯̒ͫo̭͕̱̣̞̪̹ͫ̍” his filtered voice screeched once more, glitching terribly. The green of his visor faded to orange, slowly flashing, and Hanzo could see a faint triangle with an exclamation in the glass.

Genji cried out again, clutching his head, Hanzo’s hand on his back – he didn’t know what to do, this sound was mechanical, shrieking and sharp. Hanzo did not know his brother like this, no longer quite human. _A disgusting mess of wire_. He grit his teeth, hating himself a little more.

“ _Genji! Genji,_ _what is wrong?_ ”

The cylinders across his body changed from green to red, flickering then blinking solidly as Genji’s body shook.

He was no longer in control of his physical being, his thoughts hazy as his mind and body dissociated; thought separate from body.

“What’s going on?! Loves, are you okay?”

Similar cries for help through the comm. Resounded – a decaying series of beeps and whistles, and a deep, slow version of what was once Zenyatta crying in static.

“Dragon man, get away from him!” Zarya marched toward Hanzo whose arms were wrapped around his shaking brother.

“No! I will not leave him! He is...”

“Not your brother any longer!” Zarya picked up Hanzo as he flailed against her, a useless motion as she jumped back. Hana started up her MEKA , Torbjörn and Roadhog readying their own weapons as Zarya still held an angry, hollering Hanzo.

Genji’s lights flickered out completely, Hanzo’s shriek heard throughout the training grounds. Genji’s lights flickered once more, and became a solid red as he rose slowly, turning and brandishing his shuriken.

“H̞̲̙͇̥́ ̗͈͚͖͓̟͢a͍̻̻̩̳ ͉n̡͙ ͚̬͉͔̫̙z͉̤̝̟ ǫ͖̦̩͎̭ ̵̫̼̗̭̗░̭̩̰̠̬▒̧̙̮”

 “Genji!”

Zarya threw Hanzo behind her past the doors of the training room, slamming the button closed as he caught himself and ran back toward the door. He whole body slammed against the heavy metal doors, the small window providing a dreadful sight – his brother armed and a barrage of gunfire. He was fast, blurs of red and silver at each shot. Zarya picked up the whole rack of weights to throw at him, he dodged with ease, only to be shot by Roadhog’s shrapnel blast. He cried out, vocoder cracking and red lights blinking for a moment. He ran toward the door, Hanzo helpless to do anything. He felt sick, nauseous, his arms shaking as he readied his bow, Genji slamming himself against the door, red visor peering through.

“What’s going on in there?! Shit – ” Morrison’s voice cut off the comms once more, but this time by rapid gunfire.

“B̺̯͙̼̗̫ͅ ̼ͅr̶̬̣̯ ̢̱̰͕̮͖o̴̮͇̳̪̠̹̱ ͏͓̣̦̦̙̟t̜̝ ̻̩h̺̪͈͞ ̸̩̗̘e̛̜̺͖͖̬ ͇̬͉́r̥̻͉”

Hanzo was shaking. He realized Genji was not completely gone, and somehow that made it worse.

Hana’s MEKA followed him, her aim following Genji’s blur but never quite hitting.

The MEKA suddenly stopped, jostling Hana inside. She grabbed the controllers and shook them violently.

“No, no, no! No, not now! What is going on?!” Hana’s eyes widened as Genji’s ominous approach flew straight at her. Torbjörn, with Zarya’s help, was thrown into him, his claw clamping around the ninja’s throat as he thrashed under the man’s heavy weight.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he grumbled, struggling to get Genji’s arms to still, shuriken springing from his hands but falling.

“Move!”

Zarya once more picked up the rack of weights, Torbjörn rolling away from Genji, the cyborg having little time to react other than to bring his legs closer. Hana screamed as her MEKA moved on it’s own, propelling itself forward into Zarya, the weights cracking into the floor.

“What is going on?! It’s not supposed to do that! It’s _made_ not to do that!”

Ｓｅｌｆ  Ｄｅｓｔｒｕｃｔ  Ｓｅｑｕｅｎｃｅ  Ｒｅａｄｙ

“No, no, _Oh my god, please_!” She slipped into Korean, her eject not working as she furiously slammed the button, tears prickling at her eyes. Zarya and Torbjörn slammed into the Mech, Torbjörn using his forge hammer too try and break through the glass, Hana covering herself while Zarya ripped the arm from her MEKA, reaching inside to try and pry it open. The combined force tore the MEKA apart. With the distraction, Genji readied more shuriken, but before he could release, Roadhog hooked and reeled him in, both arms crushing around the cyborg as he kicked and struggled, voice indistinguishable.

Roadhog ran as best he could to the far end of the grounds, one arm around the cyborg as he threw his hook to Torbjörn and Zarya, reeling them in time as they MEKA blasted away, the group hiding behind a rack of training bots – most blown by the blast. Zarya curled around Hana, getting minor cuts from the broken pieces of metal scattered everywhere. Hana was crying, her hand gripping Zarya’s tank top as the large woman pulled her close to shush her softly.

Torbjörn huffed and groaned, feeling a sharp pain in his prosthetic arm.

“Hold still,” Mako grunted, ripping a piece of metal from Torbjörn's arm as the short man yelped.

Genji, still tucked under Mako’s arm, thrashed about.

Hanzo was trying to look through the small window but the group was out of his view. He banged against the door, roaring in Japanese.

“Hanzo!”

The archer turned to see McCree with Angela and Satya, a familiar yellow beam of light from Mercy’s rod highlighting the cowboy. He looked bad – scrapes and bruises all over his face, burns and holes in his shirt. He was shot, several times.

“Genji is in there! He..!” Hanzo grit his teeth, explaining in rapid Japanese.

“Whoa, whoa there,” McCree approached him, hands on the shorter man’s shoulders.

Satya entered a code into a hologrid, opening the door through override.

“Stay back!” Torbjörn's voice called. They all entered the training grounds, but saw Hana cling to Zarya with Torbjörn and Roadhog holding Genji, attempting to anyway, in place as he cried out angrily in mixed Japanese, English, and glitchy screeching.

The lights shut off and the emergency generator kicked in, illuminating the whole base in orange glow. It was enough distraction for Genji’s red-and-silver body to kick away from his confines and jump away, swiftly dodging the others to leave the room in a surge of speed boost.

Roadhog’s hook didn’t catch him in time. The emergency barricade shut behind Genji.

Ｅｍｅｒｇｅｎｃｙ  ｅｒａｄｉｃａｔｉｏｎ  ｓｅｑｕｅｎｃｅ  ｃｏｍｍｅｎｃｅ． 

Satya frowned, but looked to her hologrid, typing.

“How the hell can you be so calm?!”

“Special training to keep calm in such situations,” Satya replied automatically.

“And what are you doing, anyhow?!”

“The emergency lockdown is only affecting certain areas. I am trying to lock down the entire base, to trying to quarantine the area. Bastion and Zenyatta are also infected with this… _thing_. If they get out, they could easily be used as hosts to carry Ixchel-Athens across, infecting other Omnics.”

Satya stopped her typing and gestured her hands, a small hard light triangle between her fingers. She unhooked the base of a teleporter and placed it on the floor, the portal opening as she lay hard light into it's base.

“Now we have a way out, ourselves. This one connected to the laboratory. Be careful, Morrison, Winston, and Tracer are taking care of Bastion at the moment. We escaped to find you.”

Everyone nodded.

Mercy focused on giving Mako, Torbjörn, Zarya, and Hana soft light healing until they were ready.

Satya raised everyone’s shields and Roadhog went in first, Torbjörn shortly behind with massive amount of scrap. Roadhogs scrap shooter rang out until he was completely through the teleporter. McCree followed suit, Hanzo beside him. He grabbed Hanzo’s tattooed arm with his gloved hand, and they exchanged a solemn, sorry look before heading through, McCree covering for Hanzo as he ran, bullets flying all over as Tracer zipped across their sight, Winston roaring and hopping from beam to beam above them, Soldier firing rockets and bullets back at Bastion. Hanzo noticed Soldier’s visor was missing, nowhere to be found. Rockets were being fired as Fareeha, wearing only key pieces of her armor, attempted to subdue Bastion. For a flash of a moment, he then saw a truly sad sight; Bastion’s bird-friend cowering, hiding in the beams above them, feathers ripped from its wing.

Mercy took Hana to fly behind the lab, following Satya and Zarya covered them. Zarya picked up her Particle Canon along the way, shielding the women as they tried to head toward the exit under the crossfire.

“Move out of the way! _Ogon’ po gotovnosti_!” she called out, shooting a gravitational surge in the midst of the battle. Winston grabbed Tracer and Morrison out of the close range and grabbed a beam, Pharah rocketing away to catch and hold onto another beam in the strong gravitational pull. Bastion’s own bullets were stuck in the vortex.

Hanzo, far enough to only feel a gentler pull of the vortex, swaying his ribbon, aimed his arrow at the revealed blue power cell. He hesitated. He did not want to shoot, _disgusting mess of wire_ , he couldn’t.

McCree’s hand pushed Hanzo’s bow aside as he aimed, time slowing once more. He felt his heart beat, the flutter of his blood in his veins. He breathed in, raised his gun, deadeye shot Bastion down, shattering his power cell just as the gravitational pull subsided.

His knees were weak, breath exhausted, arm too heavy as he let his Peacekeeper back to it’s holster. He grabbed Hanzo’s arm and gave him a worried look.

Hanzo’s mouth was curled into a pitiful frown.

“I could not do it,” he said in a wavered breath.

“It’s okay,” McCree offered, a gentle shake of Hanzo’s shoulder. “It’s okay, we did good.”

Hanzo looked at him, mouth hung but no words, both brows raised. He didn’t know what to say.

He looked behind, then, seeing the other women gathered around Satya as she opened another teleporter, the exit to the lab in either direction sealed shut.

Hanzo stepped toward them but McCree tightened his grip.

“Let me go,” Hanzo demanded, his fury back once more.

As much as McCree was glad to hear it, the bite in Hanzo’s words, he shook his head.

“You can’t. It can’t be you. It’ll only hurt you, way worse than before.”

“I must find my brother. We don’t have to kill him!”

“We may not, but it _can’t_ be you, compadre. Okay? Listen to me,” Jesse grabbed both of Hanzo’s shoulders tightly, looking him straight in the eye.

“It don’t matter, win or lose, you’re going to lose _something_ if you go with them. I can’t let you do that. I can’t let you destroy each other like this, even if Genji ain’t in control of himself right now.”

Hanzo pulled back, ripping way from McCree’s grip.

"I am not a child that needs protecting!"

“ _Please_ ,” Jesse cried, voice cracking. “Let me just save _one_ of you! Just one!” He was desperate, clutching his shirt tightly, jaw clenched.

Hanzo paused for only a moment, long enough to give McCree hope before shattering it to pieces as the archer followed the women into the teleporter.

The team held back for a moment, hearing explosions in the confines of the building, down the hall toward the kitchen, shattered glass, a booming German voice, and the loud thump of bass rang out.

Zarya knelt, hand on the small Hana’s shoulder.

“It would be better if you go back,” he said as gently as she could.

“I want to help!”

“And you will. Right now, see if Morrison or others need anything. When we finish here, we send Lúcio to help, too, da?”

Zarya pulled the small girl in for a hug.

“Go back in,” she urged once more as Hana retreated into the teleporter.

Hanzo notched his arrow and stepped in front of Satya and Mercy, Zarya beside him.

“I will shield you,” the Russian woman assured.

“As will I,” added Satya.

“You’re covered. Now get in there!”

Hanzo nodded and stepped forward into a sprint, Zarya projecting a shield along with Symmetra. Mercy jogged forward to follow as Hanzo released arrows toward a hauntingly familiar voice.

“Ì have seen t̷r͏ue̶ bala͞nc̡e between ｆｌｅｓｈ and machi̭̥̺͕̙̳̻n̜̞͉̫e͔͡.”

“Not with you Omnic fucks!” Junkrat yelled as he threw a series of small bombs. The wall-length window was shattered, but the steel barricade in front of it prevented any escape.

Reinhardt picked up the table and threw it at Zenyatta, who only charged his orbs to break it into pieces; a rain of wood debris flew over him instead, Lúcio took the distraction to push him back with a loud sound wave.

Zenyatta did not expected, however Hanzo’s arrow through his neck. The shock stuttered him and made his feet touch the ground.

“Don’t move!” Mei popped up next to Junkrat from behind the counter, hoisting her endothermic blaster and firing at Zenyatta, freezing his feet in place. As the Omnic struggled, Reinhardt threw a chair at his face, the orbs falling to the floor. Lúcio sped to kick them out of the way – the more time Zenyatta could take to command the orbs, the better. As Zenyatta’s body was being frozen, Junkrat lit a few fuses, yelling out _Bombs away!_

Mei stopped her cryo-blast and pushed Junkrat, “No!”

The three bombs scattered across the floor, and Zarya came from behind Hanzo, pushing him aside. She generated a new shield, but around the bombs, containing the blast.

In the confusion, Zenyatta was able to break part of the ice to free himself, but Zarya kicked him to the ground and smashed the end of her canon to Zenyatta’s legs, shattering them with the ice. Mei froze his arms and torso, leaving his head. Jamison approached, a snarl at his lips and a crack of his knuckles, but Mei pushed him back.

“No, don’t! We can still save him if we try!”

“And why the hell would we want to do that, exactly? He tried to kill us!”

“He is our friend. We need to try. This is no different than kidnapping soldiers!”

“Tch, Soldiers have better control,” Zarya chimed.

“Are you fucking kidding me, we’re _still_ talking about this shit?” Lúcio rolled up beside Reinhardt, whose face dropped and looked terribly sad.

“Friends…” He started. “We don’t have time to waste. We can leave him for now, and save the others.”

A warm beam of light connected to Reinhardt, healing him of deep bruises and shrapnel cuts.

“Angela!” He smiled brightly, with Symmetra, Hana, and Tracer behind.

“Sorry for being late! Brought extras,” Tracer zipped to give Jamison more bombs, and Hana loaded her own gun.

“Hammer’s in the lab, love,” Tracer added. “Bit too big for any of us, though.”

“What happened?” Lúcio asked.

Hanzo sighed deeply.

“My brother’s body was taken by the God Program. He attacked us, but not of his own volition.”

“We brought him down, but he escaped,” Zarya added. “God-bitch turned out the lights and he ran. This is when doors shut,” she gestured to the broken window with heavy guardrail blocking them from the outside.

“She made my MEKA self-destruct!”

“Whoa, ain’t those things s’pposed to, y’know… _Not_ be taken over by those fuckin' god-things?” Jamison seemed genuinely concerned.

“Exactly! That’s not supposed to happen! MEKA was built specifically so that it can’t happen!”

 “It was my fault,” Satya admitted glumly.

Lúcio furrowed his brow.

“Oh no. No fuckin’ way. Are you for _real_ right now?!”

“I did not think that my additions to Hana’s MEKA – ”

“You know, for someone so smart you really don’t think at all, do you? I thought you said you scanned Athena for exactly _this_ kind of shit. And then you added some Vishkar bull to Hana’s mech? Y’know, I’m startin’ to think this was all on purpose.”

Satya clenched her fist, but did nothing to defend herself further.

“A God Program is an elusive, monstrous program capable of outsmarting even the best of thinkers,” Hanzo said, to Lúcio and Symmetra’s surprise. “Perhaps I am giving Omnics too little credit. And perhaps I do not give the God Program enough credit. I now see what they are capable of. And with that, we must tear it from its nest and destroy it. Miss Vaswani, do you know where the God Program could be located?”

Satya nodded, projecting her hologrid. “It should be – ”

The faint blue of her grid malfunctioned, glowing red and projecting random bits of blinking code, binary, and wingdings across the screen. Satya sighed, ridding the program.

“I memorized where it is. It is in a sub-basement floor, but we will need to find Dr. Ziegler’s lab to gain access to the basement before then. The central processing unit for Athena’s core intelligence is there.”

“We will guard this,” Zarya said, lightly kicking Zenyatta’s head.

Hanzo nodded, “I will look ahead. Lead the way.”

Hanzo, Mercy, and Satya left ahead, Lúcio and Reinhardt following Tracer back to Winston’s lab. Reinhardt caught up with the other three, hammer in hand with vambraces and minimal armor.

“I will be your shield,” he said.

Satya came to the end of the hall, the lock-down door preventing them from going any further. She sighed.

“There is a teleporter in Mercy’s lab, but it is not hidden. If Genji is there, he may dispose of it too quickly.

“I will go through first,” Reinhardt offered. He projected his shield from his vambraces. “Not as strong as my fully suited one, but it should buy us time to get through.”

Satya nodded and prepared the teleporter.

Reinhardt went through first, shield up immediately. As Hanzo, Satya, and Angela came through, they were surprised to not see anyone inside. The whole room was blanketed in orange flashing glow, but no one in sight.

“I can’t tell if this is a good thing,” Mercy commented.

“The entrance to the basement is in here, yes?” Satya asked her.

Mercy nodded, leading her toward a door locked shut.

“Reinhardt, could you give us a little help?”

The large man used his hammer as a battering ram, crashing through the door to allow Mercy and Symmetra inside. Hanzo looked around the lab – this part was the office front divided in half by a curtain. The pale desk by the main entrance door was where Angela would sit, reading reports, doing simple check-ups … The room next over was one of Hanzo’s least favourite places – it always smelled of antiseptic and rubbing alcohol. As he followed, three more doors were seen at the end of the room – gurneys were set up along both walls in rows, separated by personal curtains each, a group of various machines in the corner of the room included monitors of sorts, heart-lung machines, a crowd of drip stands, and a lone X-ray machine. One door lead to the MRI and a variety of other heavier equipment, one was a storage room full of boxes of information, files, records, pills, blood, coolers, and if Hanzo recalled two refrigerators. The last door was the stairwell for downstairs, double barricaded for emergencies considering Athena’s main power cell and processing unit were stored there. Reinhardt broke open the first stairwell door, its hinges broken but somehow still attached. Hanzo flinched – not from the sound, but what the sound could bring. He spun around to check behind them all as Symmetra and Mercy descended the stairs, Symmetra placing one final portal when they reached the second barricaded door.

“Friend?” Reinhardt called.

“I will stay here. You go with them.”

Reinhardt gave him a solemn look but nodded, following after.

Hanzo hurriedly closed the door as best he could then pulled the equipment to blockade. Reinhardt could burst through if need be, but few others could do the same.

Hanzo’s heart beat in his throat, adrenaline making his palms and brow sweat. He notched an arrow as he stood by the open door. He bristled when the office door slid open.

He reacted immediately, firing an arrow at the soon-to-be blur of his brother, who drew his sword and jumped to Angela’s desk. He leapt toward Hanzo as the elder dragon rolled into the office room, plucking three arrows from his quiver to cascade them at his brother. One was deflected, warbling its movement elsewhere. Genji dodged one, and the third stuck him in the shoulder, between the joints of his armor. He wasn’t trying to kill him.

Hanzo jumped back after each quick slash of Genji’s blade, one strike, two, three landing at his chest and arm, making Hanzo hiss. He slammed his bow into Genji’s stomach with enough force to slide him back, but the cyborg quickly regained his footing, launching at the elder dragon once more in a flurry of quick swipes. Hanzo did his best to block with his bow, but a few slashes too quick for him cut his sleeved arm. He had three arrows left in his quiver, and if he were quick enough, he could grab the two in the room. Genji’s body did not bother to recover the arrow lodged in his shoulder – the pain was something human flesh felt, not machine, and that realization hurt Hanzo deeper than any cut Genji’s blade could brunt him; Genji felt the the pain, the sting of the arrow lodged in his flesh, but not the machine of his body that forced him to continue.  

Slowly, he deflected less, blood seeping from his hands and arms, two slashes across his face – one nervously close to his eye across his brow.

“Genji!” he pleaded. He knew his brother was in there. He had no idea how far the extent of his body he could control.

Hanzo thought to himself, what if he let Genji win? Genji, no longer in his own control, forced to end Hanzo’s life; a long, yet-to-be-fulfilled wish of his. That would be justice, wouldn’t it? A higher power manipulating you to end your sibling. Except this time, Hanzo would die, and he would not come back.

“A̠̗͉͕͔̕ ͇͘n ̱́i ̸j̶ ̼̩̲͓͔̜a̵̭̖̰̹̗,” The distortion of Genji’s voice broke him from such a dream. An unexpected slash across his stomach made him howl and buckle. He dodged more relentless, seemingly tireless strikes.

“Genji, I am sorry, brother!” He rolled across the floor to grab an arrow, firing it – it caught in Ganji’s armor, between his serratuses. The painful cry hidden under static made Hanzo flinch, tears prickling in his eyes once more. The distraction allowed him time to leap across the floor, slipping on his own feet between the blood and tile before running down to the gurney-room.

He ran and skid across the floor behind one of the curtained gurneys. He steadied his breath.

Genji could see in his visor Hanzo’s infrared outline behind the gurney as his body walked without his permission toward stacked cabinets and medical equipment barricading the door instead. He was _so_ thankful, enough to become tearful, that Ixchel-Athens had control of only his mechanical body, and could not see in his still-human mind, or through his still-human eyes.

Genji saw through curtains, Hanzo’s slumped form, bow lowering, head hung. A hand grabbed his own hair, the clattering of the bow against the tile made Genji’s head snap to his location, and Genji’s own heart nearly stopped. He wanted to stop, to cry out, to plead regardless of his lack of control. He realized Hanzo was surrendering, and his eyes began to mist, the heat beneath his helmet causing steam to hiss from his body.

“Ẉ̰̲͢-W̟͉͖̖̣ͮͤ- W̴͔̥̼hen you thought I left you, how much did it hurt b-b-br-br-br-brother?  ░▓▐██▒▒░░ Do not let me hurt - hurt - hurt ▒▒ h̫u̱̯̺͈̙͇ŕ͚t̛̯ you.”

Hanzo’s eyes snapped open.

“Are you j-j-j-j-j-just █▓▓▒░ going to throw your-your-your-your life away brother? - b̄͘rͦ̂͆͛ͨ̐̒͢oth̓͐̇̏̇͒͗eͤr̢̉? ░▓”

He tightened his grip on his bow.

“You – You – Ȳ̧̂ͧͧ ̢͊ͣͦͬ o͏̗̟̰̗ u͒̕can’t keep doing this. You can’t let me win.”

His arm trembled, both of pain and fear.

“You thought you ▓▒░ lost – _l o s t_ me. For a **d e c a d e**. How would it f-f-f-feel if I lose you, now? Do you hate m͊͌̊͏e͐ͣͮͩ̾͜ that much?”

Genji’s cracking voice broke through the silence as Hanzo hid behind a curtained gurney, arrow drawn but not yet notched.

“H́ͨͧ a̍͡ nͭͩ͐ ̑ͩ͊z,o͔͞” Genji pleaded. “There i-i-is a… ▒▓█▅▃▂_!!” His voice modulator cracked and cut out. He rasped. His human voice was all that was left. With a painful intake of air, he tried to continue.

“Power… Main…” He gasped for breath, the static in his voice gone as his vocal cords worked on their own. “Back…!”

As Genji’s body heaved the equipment out of the way to find nothing but a  broken portal and an untouched second barricade. Shuriken were drawn and he was forced to hold them to his own throat. He would not die if he were pierced; his cybernetic body had many failsafes. However, if cut deep enough at the right place, his voice would be gone for good.

With Genji’s hand preoccupied with shuriken, Hanzo took the opportunity.

He jumped from his hiding spot, reflexes rivaling his brother’s. The brown of his eyes danced with an electric blue, the static of his tattoo licked across his skin as he yelled, “ ** _Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau!_** ”

He fired an arrow at a bright point in the center of Genji’s back, and the dragons stormed in the lab, a typhoon of rain and thunder inside soaked paper, curtain, and ninja, their own electric charge overloading Genji’s cybernetic system enough to shut off the majority of his physical functioning. He collapsed as the tail ends of the dragons tapered into the air, the storm subsiding. Hanzo ran to his side, sliding across the wet floor to pick up his felled brother.

“Genji! Genji!” He shook his brother, who trembled in his arms, lights completely gone, pressure of his suit automatically released steam but the cylinders did not withdraw. Hanzo pulled the arrow from the mark at the center of Genji’s back, throwing it aside.

“Genji,” he said again, softer this time. The cyborg’s arms barely moved, but his hands were useless without the power of his suit. He gasped, struggling for air.

“No, no, no, no, no. How? How do I..?”

Hanzo scrambled to explore Genji’s helmet, letting his brother lean against him as he looked for the latches, the safety, what the hell will open this damn thing?

“Hanzo!” Yelled a faraway voice. A chorus of others joined, calling his name.

He looked up, hopeful, worried, _scared_.

“I am in here!” He yelled as loud as he could manage, voice cracking at such pitch.

Rattling of feet, boots, shoes, came toward him, particularly familiar spurs. McCree was first in the room, sliding on the wet floor, rain and blood, falling, catching himself, then proceeded to run toward Hanzo in a desperate sprawl.

“Hanzo!”

“I.. I cannot open his helmet, he can’t breathe!” Hanzo did not notice the warmth of tears down his face.

“Okay, okay, shhh. We’re here now, okay?” McCree knelt beside him and Genji, fingers placed carefully where he had seen Genji remove his helmet. He pressed a few spots blindly before a click and hiss was heard. Genji’s reddened eyes stared at them.

“Okay, it’s okay.”

“H-how..? He doesn’t…” _He doesn’t have a mouth_. _Disgusting mess of wire_.

“Genji!” Tracer called from behind.

“Find me oxygen, quick Lena!”

Without seeing Lena salute him and zip across the room, back and forth, McCree turned back to Genji and lifted his chin to open his airway and breathed in him – mouth covering Genji’s scarred nose. Hanzo helped hold him as McCree performed CPR until Lena could get them an oxygen tank with a nasal cannula.

“Great, that’s real great Lena. Thank you.” McCree fitted the tubes over Genji to help him breathe.

“We got you,” McCree soothed, gloved hand gliding over Genji’s smooth helmet. “Shhh.”

Genji did not notice his own hot tears until his vision blurred.

Soldier was beside them, sitting with a grunt as he lay down a biotic field. Winston adjusted his glasses, holding Ganymede in his large hands.

Genji never felt more tired, and never felt more cared for. He saw Lena was holding one of his now-dead hands, Hanzo still holding him up, McCree petting his head. Even Jack reached over and held his shoulder. The sight of the waxwing in Winston’s arms made his head spin. Bastion and Zenyatta, they were fully Omnics, not like himself – he was lucky enough to be human, to have been able to be saved in this way. He tried hard, so very hard, not to think of what happened to his master and the friendly naturist Omnic. 

Pharah joined them soon, partly armored. She paused to see Genji, a look of horrific worry across her face.

Before she could speak, the whole building shut off, safety generator and all, before coming back online. Lights on, normal fluorescent ones flickering. Everyone’s vision was spotted with black and orange for a moment, to adjust to the gentler, pale light.

Reinhardt slammed through the door of the stairwell and the clicking of heels followed after. Satya and Mercy both came into view with Reinhardt's projected shield.

Angela saw Genji and quickly ran to his side. She ripped the arrows from his side and shoulders, immediately paired with the warmth of her healing beam.

Satya checked her holoprojected screen. The Overwatch symbols dimmed as Athena reloaded herself.

After some time, an unfortunate sound was heard, everyone looking up at nothing upon hearing the disembodied voice of two:

Ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔｉｎｇ

Soldier jumped up, gun ready and teeth grit. Reinhardt’s hammer in hand, Winston holding Ganymede in one hand, ready to fire at anything.

Ｐａｉｎ．  Ｆｅａｒ．  Ｌｏｖｅ． 

“I don’t understand, she should be subdued,” Satya was quickly typing across her holoprojected keyboard.

Ｙｏｕ  ｃｏｕｌｄ  ｂｅ  ｆｒｅｅｄ  ｏｆ  ａｌｌ  ｔｈｅｓｅ  ｂｕｒｄｅｎｓ．

“She isn’t redacting the program...” Satya murmured to herself, typing as quickly as she could.

Ｆｌｅｓｈ  ａｎｄ  ｍａｃｈｉｎｅ  ｃｏｕｌｄ  ｂｏｎｄ．

Genji felt the protective touch of Hanzo, McCree, Tracer, and Mercy all.

Ｙｏｕ  ｃｏｕｌｄ  ｌｏｓｅ  ｙｏｕｒ  ｈｕｍａｎ  ｗｅａｋｎｅｓｓｅｓ.

Familiar bombs echoed in the distance. Everyone hoped dearly the others were alright.

Ａｎｄ  ｇａｉｎ  ｔｈｅ  ａｓｓｉｓｔａｎｃｅ  ｏｆ  ｍａｃｈｉｎｅ.

“Do you _ever_ shut up?!” Soldier gripped his gun tightly. No one was sure where to look.

Winston’s face went slack.

“The encryptions… The super soldiers. The clones. The cybernetic enhancements.”

The realization washed through everyone at once.

Ａ  ｐｅｒｆｅｃｔ  ｗｏｒｌｄ

Ｗｈｅｒｅ  ｔｈｅｒｅ  ｉｓ  ｎｏ  ｐａｉｎ．

Ａｎｄ  ｙｅｔ．．．

 “A world like what you’re talkin’ bout ain’t somethin’ we’re interested in, _darlin’_.”

McCree’s hand was rough against Genji’s face, a surge of something dark in his voice.

It was silent for a long moment, anticipation, fear, anxiety all swelled in everyone’s hearts.

．．．  Ｉ  ｕｎｄｅｒｓｔａｎｄ．

The facility shut down once more, and in turn lit up once more. Satya’s hologrid flashed the Overwatch insignia.

．．．

“Welcome. My name is Athena.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Supersoldier clones, enhanced by cybernetics, a mechanical brain, a human soul. Something not human, something not omnic, something in between. A single program, millions of clones. A perfect world. 
> 
> *
> 
> Will take a while longer for the last two chapters. I've officially caught up. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking around this long. I hope it's been good so far.


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